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BURGLARS   IN   PARADISE 


BY 

ELIZABETH  STUART  PHELPS 


BOSTON  AND    NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY 

STfce  fitoerside  Pve0£,  <TambriD0e 
1887 


Copyright,  1888, 
Br  ELIZABETH   STUART   1> HELPS. 

AU  right*  reserved. 


The  Rirrrriiie  Prttt,  Cambrijet  f 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  II.  0.  Hougbtoa  t  Co. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

I.  THE  RTTMOR 5 

II.  THE  SCARE 22 

III.  GOOD  FAMILY  HORSES 40 

IV.  THE  LADY  OF  SHALOTT        .....        62 
V.   FEE-FI-FUM  AND  I.  O.  U .81 

VI.    THE  BURGLARY 99 

VII.   MR.  PUSHETT 117 

VIII.   THE  STATE  WILL  PROTECT 137 

IX.   MESSRS.  HIDE  AND  SEEK 155 

X.  JCDAS  JOHNS 172 

XI.  WHAT  is  CALLED  FRIENDSHIP         ....  190 
XII.  RECEIPTED  BILLS  .        .  205 


34209^ 


BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 


THE    RUMOR. 

IF  it  had  not  been  for  that  horse  — 

But  this  requires  explanation. 

Some  time  ago,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  re 
cording  the  experience  of  a  single  and  singu 
lar  lady,  who  built  a  house  and  lived  in  it. 
To  any  reader  by  chance  acquainted  with 
those  records  no  introductory  words  will  now 
be  needed.  To  such  as  are  unfamiliar  with 
the  annals  of  «  The  Old  Maid's  Paradise  "  it 
may  be  necessary  to  say  that  they  concerned 
the  fortunes  of  a  family  of  two,  —  mistress 
and  maid.  I  mistake  ;  it  was  a  family  of 
three,  —  mistress,  maid,  and  dog.  They  were 
known  to  the  public  respectively  as  Corona, 


6  BURGLARS  IN  PARADIS11 

Puella  Virginia  (short,  Puelvir),  and  Matthew 
Launcelot. 

Corona's  house  was  a  matched-board  cot 
tage,  situated,  in  summer,  in  the  town  of 
Fairharbor,  on  the  eea-coast.  As  Corona 
spent  the  winters  with  her  brother's  family, 
she  carried  away  the  impression  that  her 
house  was  not  situated  anywhere  from  Octo 
ber  to  June.  The  poor,  desolate,  shuttered 
thing,  shivering  down  there  on  the  cliffs  in 
the  winter  nor' westers,  seemed  to  her  to  be 
blotted  off  the  map  by  the  first  snow-storm, 
along  with  the  wild  roses  and  the  golden-rod 
and  the  dandelion  ghosts,  and  the  sense  of 
having  one's  own  way,  and  paying  the  unxvr 
for  the  privilege.  Corona  did  not  like  to 
think  about  her  house  when  she  was  out  of 
it ;  it  seemed  like  the  corpse  of  a  house,  like 
an  unburied  friend  :  it  made  her  sentimental. 
Her  house  was  the  only  thing  that  she  was 
known  to  be  sentimental  about. 

She  hurried  back  to  it  for  that  second  sea 
son  whose  history  it  will  be  the  effort  of  these 
columns  to  portray,  with  a  bounding  heart. 


THE  RUMOR.  7 

She  had  passed  the  bounding  years.  Life 
had  begun  to  take  steady  paces.  She  had 
some  time  since  ceased  to  expect  things,  and 
when  they  came  they  met  her  like  friends  in 
a  crowd  :  a  quick  hand  on  the  arm,  a  kin 
dling  eye,  a  sensitive  cry,  —  "  Why,  you  !  " 
—  and  thus  she  had  her  surprise  for  her 
pains,  the  twofold  pleasure  of  not  hoping,  the 
ardent  comfort  that  comes  from  asking  noth 
ing  of  life  and  finding  something  when  you 
don't  look  for  it.  Corona  was  a  person  of 
"  ways."  This  was  one  of  her  ways ;  and 
she  found  it  a  very  good  one. 

So,  when  she  felt  that  old,  patiently  put-by 
pull  at  the  arterial  circulation,  which  comes 
of  deeply  wishing  for  a  thing  that  is  really 
going  to  happen,  Corona  experienced  some 
curiosity  over  the  psychological  phenomenon. 

"  I  did  not  expect  to  care  so  much,"  she 
said  to  Puelvir,  as  they  jounced  democratic 
ally  over  the  Pairharbor  streets  in  the  yellow 
omnibus.  Fairharbor  economizes  her  streets 
as  a  public  gymnasium.  The  great  ledges, 
worn  by  the  great  fish  teams,  and  innocent  of 


8  BURGLARS  IN  PARA  DISK. 

Mr.  McAdam's  miniafefative  palliations,  exer 
cise  the  passengers  obviously.  Matthew  Laun- 
celot,  in  particular,  being  of  so  much  less 
weight  than  either  of  his  natural  protectors, 
performed  the  flying  trapeze  and  double  bar 
from  one  end  of  the  narrow,  dingy  red  velvet 
cushions  to  the  other,  at  irregular  intervals. 
with  an  air  of  wounded  dignity  which  lent 
pathos  to  the  occasion. 

"  Here,  I  '11  hold  ye,  if  I  Ve  got  to,"  said 
Puelvir. 

"Did  you  speak  to  me?"  asked  Corona. 
dreamily. 

Puelvir  had  not  noticed  the  psychological 
problem.  Whether  it  were  above  her  or  be 
neath  her.  who  could  say?  Mistress  and 
maid  were  fond  of  each  other ;  and  Corona 
was  used  to  these  little  lapses  in  the  line  of 
human  sympathy  which  come  of  solitary  liv 
ing  with  some  one  who  is  "  different. "  She 
had  a  high  regard  for  Puelvir,  and  watched 
her  affectionately  as  she  gathered  Matthew 
Launcelot  into  her  generous  bosom. 

"  There,  there  !  "  said  Puelvir.  "  Do  set 
awhile,  if  there  's  any  set  in  you  !  " 


THE  RUMOR.  9 

"He  never  kisses  you,"  observed  Corona. 
"  And  he 's  so  fond  of  you,  too  !  I  wonder 
at  it." 

"  Kisses  me  !  "  cried  Puelvir.  "  Kisses 
me  !  Why,  I  'd  as  lief  be  kissed  by  live  men- 
folks  (for  aught  I  know)  as  by  dogs.  I  knew 
a  girl  once  set  in  a  man's  lap  while  they  was 
keepin'  company.  I  says  to  her,  '  I  don't  see 
what  you  want  to  do  it  FOR.  I  should  as 
soon  think  of  goin'  an'  settin'  on  the  mantel 
piece  ! '  I  've  trained  him,  you  better  be 
lieve,"  added  Puelvir.  "  I  used  to  snap  his 
nose  every  time  he  tried  it.  If  that  don't 
work,  I  sprinkle  him  with  a  little  vinegar. 
It 's  excellent.  They  soon  get  over  it." 

"  Who  get  over  it  ?  "  asked  Corona,  still 
in  her  dream.  Pronouns  were  never  Puelvir's 
strong  point.  It  took  a  while  to  get  used  to 
them. 

"  How  natural  it  dooz  look  down  here  !  " 
observed  Puelvir,  as  the  omnibus  bobbed  and 
cannonaded  through  the  crooked  streets,  past 
the  dreary  wharves,  by  the  pungent  fish- 
flakes,  where  the  salt  cod  dried  in  the  sun 


10  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

and  swallowed  the  dust ;  down  past  widening 
glints  of  cleanness,  blueness,  coolness,  and  so, 
at  last,  to  the  bright  burst  of  the  sea.  "  I  al- 
wez  kinder  learn  to  like  a  place  by  the  signs  ; 
don't  you,  Miss  Corona  ?  I  know  'em  by 
heart  down  here.  There  's  the  Labrador  Bak 
ery  !  See?  With  that  beautiful  view  lit- 
painted  on  his  cart.  Don't  you  remember  ? 
She  was  an  Injun  woman  settin'  on  a  nice- 
berg  ;  and  he  asked  a  cent  apiece  more  for 
his  muffins  because  he  had  to  pay  that  artist 
sech  a  price.  He  told  me  so.  There  's  one 
sign  I  feel  different  about  from  any  in  Fair- 
harbor.  It's  *  T.  II.  Trader.  Boxes  <tn<l 
Shooks.'  I  could  n't  tell  why,  but  it  gives 
me  such  a  feeling.  I  never  feel  to  home  till 
I  see  it.  It's  comin'  this  minute.  See  it? 
Driving  on  that  there  cross-street  ?  *  T.  II. 
Trader.  Boxes  and  Shooks*  What  are 
shocks,  Miss  Corona  ?  You  've  lived  here 
longer 'n  I  have." 

Corona  shook  her  head.  She  had  spent 
six  summers  in  Fairharbor.  Six  hundred 
times  had  she  perused  the  legend :  "  T.  H. 


THE  RUMOR.  11 

Trader.  Boxes  and  Shooks"  Never  had 
she  organized  an  inquiry  as  to  the  nature  or 
purpose  of  a  shook. 

"  A  modern  writer  has  said  women  have 
no  intellectual  initiative,  Puelvir." 

"Ma'am?"  said  Puelvir. 

As  the  two  women  approached  their  home 
with  this  stimulating  conversational  prelude, 
Corona's  heart  sank  a  little. 

"  Shall  I  lower  to  her  level  day  by  day  ?  " 
she  thought.  But  she  was  comforted  by  some 
fellow-passengers  in  the  omnibus.  They 
were  married  people  ;  they,  too,  were  coming 
to  their  summer  home  by  the  inspired  and  in 
spiring  sea ;  they,  too,  had  talked  in  the  om 
nibus,  and  this  was  the  literal  transcript  of 
their  wedded  conversation  :  — 

(She.)  "  Harry,  where  's  my  shawl-strap  ? 
You've  left  it  behind!" 

(He.)  "It  is  under  your  feet,  my  dear. 
You  said  you  wanted  a  footstool,  the  omnibus 
jolted  so." 

"  I  '11  never  ride  in  this  omnibus  again,  if 
I  live  to  get  out  of  it !  Now,  Harry,  where 
is  my  sun-umbrella  ?  " 


12  BURGLARS  IN   PARADISE. 

"  Safely  strapped  up  with  my  cane,  Jenny." 

"  Well,  anyway,  you've  broken  the  pulsa- 
tilla  bottle.  I  knew  you  would  when  you  sit 
down  so  hard.  I  see  it  leaking  out  of  your 
coat  pocket  now.  I  shall  u<  r<  r  «rct  to  slccj» 
without  it,  and  I  shall  lure  to  send  you  back 
to  town  to  get  some  more." 

(He,  grimly,  under  his  mustache.)  "  I 
don't  doubt  you  will !  " 

"  What  did  you  say,  sir  ?  " 

(He,  promptly.)    "  I  did  n't  say  anything." 

"  I'm  sure  you  did.     You  can't  deny  it." 

"  I  do  deny  it.  We  have  n't  either  of  us 
said  anything  since  we  started.  Do  keep 
still.  That  lady  overhears." 

"  I  don't  care  who  hears.  I  insist  upon 
knowing.  Why,  here 's  the  pulsatilla  in  my 
hand-bag,  after  all  !  " 

Silence  succeeded. 

(She,  with  an  air  of  originality.)  "  How 
this  omnibus  does  rattle  !  " 

(He,  absently.)    "  Oh  !  —  very." 

"  Harry  !    What  a  hot  day  it  is  !  " 

(He,  patiently.)    "  Quite  hot." 


THE  RUMOR.  13 

(She.)    "  I  'm  tired  to  death  !  " 
(He.)    "  You  have  your  pulsatilla." 
t(  Well,  /  sha'n't  sit  down  on  it  and  break 
it,  at  any  rate !  "     This  with  the  air  of  one 
who  has  made  a  strong  moral  point. 

"  Here  we  be,"  said  Puella  Virginia  at  last. 
"  He 's  left  my  hogshead  bottom  up'ards. 
Whatever  I  'in  to  do  for  water  come  o'  Mon 
day,  and  the  clothes-post 's  blowed  down,  and 
the  spare-room  blind  's  off.  The  roof  needs 
paintin'.  I  '11  bet  it  leaks.  The  coal-bin  ain't 
built,  and  all  Mis'  Rowin's  chickens  are  settin* 
on  your  front  piazza.  But,  thanks  to  mercy, 
she 's  washed  them  windows  !  and,  as  for  me, 
I've  got  home" 

The  maid  gave  a  happy,  boisterous  sigh 
that  went  to  the  mistress's  heart.  It  touched 
her  to  have  the  dependent  forget  her  depend 
ence.  And  that  all  the  home  she  had  to  offer, 
to  the  only  creature  to  whom  she  might  offer 
it,  should  be  dear  to  that  other  solitary  wo 
man  too,  —  this  was  a  pleasure.  Matched 
board  walls  and  a  cook  were  all  Corona  had. 
But  it  is  the  eternal  heimlichkeit  that  draws 
us  on. 


14  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

"  I  'm  glad  to  have  you  happy,  Puelvir 
dear,"  the  mistress  said.  She  had  never  called 
Puelvir  Dear  before.  If  she  was  served  the 
less  loyally,  or  with  the  less  respect  for  it 
thereafter,  these  records  know  it  not. 

She  flung  down  her  baggage,  anyhow,  with 
the  old  assured  confidence  in  Puelvir's  mater 
nal  capacity  for  "  picking  up,"  and  wandered 
through  the  house  with  a  consciousness  of 

D 

girlish  abandonment  to  the  sensations  of  the 
moment.  To  speak  of  wandering  through  a 
house  twenty  feet  cube  in  proportions  may  be 
subject  to  criticism  in  matter  of  style  ;  but 
there  are  spaces  and  vistas  in  one's  own  home 
not  measurable  by  the  carpenter's  scale.  How 
dear  it  was  !  The  silence  and  chill  frozen 
there  in  layers  of  solitude  all  the  patient  win 
ter  melted  at  the  first  footfall  of  love.  It 
was  a  warm  day  of  early  June ;  and  the  sun 
lay  at  full-tide  through  the  afternoon  windows 
of  the  gray  parlor.  All  the  familiar  trifles 
seemed  to  bask  in  the  yellow  flood  consciously. 
They  glanced  at  her  with  dumb  eyes,  that 
tried  to  say,  "  We  have  missed  you."  In  a 


THE  RUMOR.  15 

world  like  this,  is  it  not  something  to  be 
missed  even  by  a  picture  ?  Corona's  heart 
went  out  to  the  photographs  and  the  carmine 
ribbons  and  the  frieze  of  cardinal  flowers  on 
the  wall ;  and  she  caressed  the  silver-gray 
curtains  with  a  tender  shake. 

Through  the  open  door  the  Harbor  looked 
in  radiantly.  A  few  small  sails  leaned  south 
westerly,  bent  on  small  errands  in  the  summer 
afternoon.  The  opposite  shore  had  the  gentle 
colors  of  the  late  seashore  spring ;  even  the 
hoary  gray  of  the  reefs  seemed  younger  than 
its  wont,  and  the  greens  were  all  sensitive  still. 
The  water  and  the  sky  were  bold  and  happy 
blue.  Down  on  the  beach  the  traces  of  the 
winter  storms,  cut  in  gorges,  made  black  rifts 
on  the  gray  crescent ;  and  the  weeds  were 
massed  in  rich  bronze  heaps  at  the  hither  end 
of  the  curve.  The  fishermen's  salt-barrels 
and  lobster-traps,  piled  against  the  stone  wall, 
gave  the  definite  linear  foreground  that  artists 
love.  The  rolling  downs,  with  their  grazing 
cattle,  made  the  eastward  horizon  gracious  to 
the  eye.  These,  and  the  beach,  the  cliffs,  the 


16  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

meadow,  and  the  road  among  the  willows,  were 
innocent  yet  of  "  summer  people.''  Corona 
had  it  all  to  h  -r-^-lf.  The  double  throb  of 
the  seen  and  tin-  unseen  breakers  from  the 
Harbor  and  the  outer  shore*.  1"  ;t  powerfully. 

"  How  dear  you  are  !  "  she  said. 

Her  neighbors,  —  Heaven  bless  the  neigh 
bors,  —  it  seemed,  had  missed  her,  too.  Tin- 
fires  were  lighted  and  laid.  The  tea-table 
was  set.  Somebody  had  sent  hot  rolls.  Some 
body  else  asked  leave  to  bring  a  pie.  Flow 
ers  were  all  over  the  house.  Tiny  garden- 
patches,  walled  about  with  shells  after  the 
Fairharbor  fashion,  had  been  built  by  un 
known  hands,  and  planted  with  the  affection 
ate  but  unfortunate  seeds  that  alwavs  per 
ished  during  infancy  in  any  garden  of  Co 
rona's.  Some  one  had  filled  an  old  dory  with 
nasturtiums;  she  lay  stranded  upon  tl 
in  the  sheltered  corner  by  the  hog>head.  look 
ing  as  much  like  a  lettuce-garden  and  as  little 
like  a  boat  as  was  practicable.  Zero,  in  the 
overflow  of  his  welcome,  had  brought  a  pail 
of  water.  Zero,  it  will  be  remembered,  or 


THE   RUMOR.  17 

should  be  said,  was  the  boy  who  went  to  the 
post-office  ;  and  a  pail  of  fresh  water  is  the 
final  luxury  of  civilization  in  Fairharbor.  Co 
rona  shut  herself  alone  into  the  little  gray 
parlor,  and  collected  her  over-sensitive  thought 
forxthose  first  few  minutes.  Only  a  matched 
board  cottage,  and  Puelvir,  and  the  ocean, 
and  the  neighbors,  and  Matthew  Launcelot  — 
and  yet,  how  happy,  how  happy  a  thing  is  a 
human  home  !  Her  eyes  filled.  What,  then, 
would  it  be,  to  be  people  who  have  more  than 
that  ?  What  must  it  be  like,  to  come  home 
to  that  other  kind  of  blessedness,  the  real 
homelikeness  ?  — 

A  cold  nose  and  a  pink  tongue  profusely 
interrupted  this  dangerous  and  uncharacteris 
tic  sortie  of  the  imagination.  Matthew  Laun 
celot,  alert  to  what  he  perceived  to  be  the  un 
usual,  crept  up  into  her  arms,  and  made  him 
self  as  agreeable  as  Nature  had  permitted 
him  to  be.  Matthew  Launcelot  knew  that  he 
had  effective  eyes.  He  looked  at  her  senti 
mentally  and  sadly,  as  who  would  say,  "  But 
you  have  me." 


18  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

"  Bless  you,  yes  !  "  said  Corona,  contritely. 
She  caressed  the  dog,  as  if  she  would  apolo 
gize  to  him.  Nobody  understood  her  better 
than  Matthew  Launcelot.  If  the  wing  of  a 
flying  vision  had  brushed  her  for  that  instant ; 
if  the  thing  that  had  been  and  the  thing  that 
was  not  to  be  had  met  and  cried  out  against 
each  other  upon  her  threshold,  and  in  her 
strong  despite,  who  but  Matthew  Launcelot 
need  know? 

"  Somethin'  's  happened,"  said  Puelvir,  ap 
pearing  at  the  door  suddenly. 

"  Very  well,  Puelvir.    What,  for  instance?  " 

"  Mis'  Rowin  's  been  in.  She  told  me  to 
prepare  you.  I  said  I  would.  She  thought 
she  would  n't  ask  for  you  to-night,  you  'd  be 
so  upset  by  it.  I  told  her  it  was  very  thought 
ful  in  her." 

"  If  her  thoughtf ulness  extended —  What 
is  it  that  you  have  to  prepare  me  for,  Puel 
vir?" 

"  Burglars,"  said  Puelvir,  with  grim  tri 
umph. 

"  Ah  ?  "  listlessly  from  her  mistress. 


THE  RUMOR.  19 

"  They  're  all  round  the  neighborhood. 
They  Ve  stole  Mis'  Rowin's  best  nigh'gownd, 
and  Mr.  Jacobses  old  harness,  and  Tommy 
Thurston's  Bantam  rooster.  They  're  very 
dangerous  men.  There  's  five  of  'em." 

"  They  must  be  dangerous  men,  —  such 
deadly  depredations.  Is  this  all  you  had  to 
prepare  me  for,  Puelvir  ?  " 

"  Well,  no  'm.  It  hain't.  They  Ve  ben 
here.  They  've  broke  in." 

"  Broken  in  !  To  my  house  !  Burglars  ! 
Impossible,  Puelvir.  The  shutters  "  — 

"  Well,  yes  'in.  Thanks  to  mercy,  they 
did  n't  get  so  very  far.  They  found  they 
was  locked  out  by  that  there  bronze  bolt  of 
your'n.  They  got  in  the  little  wood-shed 
window  by  the  pantry.  He  seems  to  have  been 
a  large  feller,  and,  nigh  's  we  can  make  out, 
he  stuck.  Anyways  he  did  n't  get  no  farther  ; 
but  she  told  me  to  break  it  to  you  gently,  for 
she  was  afraid  it  would  be  a  shock  to  you.  He 
took  all  he  could  lay  hands  on,  and  dared." 

"  I  thought  you  said  there  were  five  of 
them." 


20  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

"  I  never  said  there  was  five  squoze  in  that 
there  two-foot  window,"  replied  Pnelvir  lof 
tily.  "  But  it 's  an  awful  thing  to  think  of, 
come  to  think  on  't.  And  they  took  "  — 

"  What  did  they  steal,  Puelvir  ?  What  is 
the  amount  of  my  loss?  Tell  me  the  worst 
at  once !  " 

"  Well,  I  did  n't  say 's  they  took  so  much," 
answered  Puelvir,  in  a  disappointed  tone. 
"  But  they  're  very  dangerous  men.  And 
they  've  took  the  hatchet." 

"The  hatchet?" 

"  Yes,  the  hatchet  —  howsomever  they  ever 
found  it.  When  you  and  me  wanted  it,  it 
was  always  at  the  bottom  of  the  wood-pile, 
where  he  'd  piled  his  wood  onto  it.  /  never 
found  the  hatchet  in  this  house." 

"  Is  that  the  extent  of  my  losses,  Puel 
vir?" 

"  Well,  pretty  much.  They  've  got  the 
h<itchet.  And  the  carving-knife,  —  the  one 
Zero  used  on  the  kindlin'.  I  'd  like  to  see 
'em  cut  that  Bantam  rooster  with  it  !  And 
they  took  the  close-pins,  and  the  gimlet,  and 


THE  RUMOR.  21 

a  paper  of  tacks,  and  the  hatchet.  That 's 
about  all,  nigh  's  Mis'  Rowin  can  tell.  She 
feels  very  bad  about  it.  She  said  the  neigh 
bors  would  a  set  up  nights  to  watch  your 
house.  She  hoped  you  'd  bear  up  under  the 
shock.  She  wanted  to  know  if  we  did  n't 
want  Zero  to  come  over  here  and  sleep ;  but 
I  told  her  I  guessed  you  'n  me  had  tried  that 
for  one  while." 

"  I  think  we  must  get  along  without  Zero," 
said  Corona.  "  But  it  is  an  unpleasant 
thought,  —  five  of  them  getting  in  such  very 
little  windows  in  a  person's  house.  I  will 
think  the  matter  over,  Puelvir,  and  talk  with 
you  presently." 

So  Corona  went  out  on  the  piazza  to  think 
the  burglars  over.  Mrs.  Rowin's  hens  were 
sitting  there  comfortably.  They  all  arose 
and  greeted  her  in  a  very  hospitable  manner, 
and  walked  away  one  by  one,  with  an  air  of 
consideration  for  her  feelings  which  made  it 
impossible  to  "  shoo  "  them. 

As  to  that  horse  —  but  this  requires  time. 


IL 

THE    SCARE. 

"  PUELVIR,"  said  her  mistress,  that  even 
ing,  when  the  two  women  prepared  to  face 
the  first  night  alone,  in  a  neighborhood 
known  to  be  haunted  by  house-breakers,  — 
"  Puelvir,  is  Zero  as  deaf  as  he  used  to  be  ?  " 

"  Deefer,"  said  Puelvir,  laconically. 

"  Then  I  really  don't  think  he  would  help 
us  any  ;  do  you  ?  We  must  make  up  our 
minds  to  protect  ourselves.  I  think  we  can  ; 
don't  you,  Puelvir  ?  " 

"  I  've  nailed  the  ironin'  -  board  and  the 
step-ladder  and  the  big  soap-stone  and  two 
flat-irons  agen  the  shed  window.  I  'd  like  to 
see  'em  get  in  there." 

11  That 's  an  excellent  plan,  Puelvir.  I  've 
been  thinking  it  over.  My  idea  was  that 
we  must  really  lock  up.  I  've  never  paid 


THE  SCARE.  23 

much  attention  to  the  subject.  We  will  make 
a  point  of  it.  I  think  we  'd  better  begin 
early." 

"  I  bet  I  know  what  they  took  the  hatchet 
for,  Miss  Corona.  I  've  been  thinkin'  about 
it." 

"  And  what  was  it  for,  Puelvir  ?  " 

"  To  carve  Tommy's  rooster  with  ;  that  's 
what  they  wanted  of  it.  Depend  on  't,  they 
took  your  carvin'-knife  first ;  'n  when  they 
found  what  they  'd  got  in  that  knife  —  let 
alon'  the  rooster  —  they  come  back  for  the 
hatchet." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Corona,  pensively.  "  Mr. 
Tom  and  Mr.  Sinuous  used  to  say  it  was  a 
little  dull." 

Corona  referred  to  the  only  gentlemen 
guests  whom  the  Old  Maid's  Paradise  had 
yet  known.  Tom  was  her  brother,  and  Mr. 
Sinuous  may  be  recalled  as  the  young  man 
from  Mt.  Desert,  who  had  played  the  Ser 
pent  in  this  feminine  Eden,  and  removed  a 
preferred  friend  from  Corona's  hearth-stone. 

"  We  will  lock  up,"  repeated  Corona.    "  We 


24  BURGLARS   IN  PARADISE. 

will  lock  up  very  much.  I  think,  with  my 
pistol "  — 

Puelvir  interrupted  by  an  audible  and  sig 
nificant,  but  smothered,  titter.  Corona  re 
garded  her  inquiringly,  to  see  if  this  expressed 
any  disrespect  toward  the  pistol.  But  Puelvir 
vouchsafed  no  explanation. 

4<  And  then,  with  Matthew  Launcelot "  — 

"  Matthew  Launc-elot !  "  cried  Puelvir. 

"  Certainly,"  replied  the  mistress,  with  some 
dignity.  "  He  was  given  to  me  for  a  watch 
dog,  Puelvir.  I  have  no  doubt  that  if  Mat 
thew  Launcelot  had  been  here,  we  should 
have  our  hatchet  now,  and  that  paper  of 
tacks,  too." 

"  Mebbe  we  should,"  said  Puelvir,  dis 
creetly  and  obscurely.  "  Will  ye  leave  me 
to  lock  up  behind,  and  you  lock  up  before  ? 
I  'd  like  to  see  'em,"  added  Puelvir.  "  I  'd 
jest  like  to  see  'em  git  into  this  house,  and 
me  in  it !  " 

Judging  from  Puelvir's  kindling  counte 
nance,  this  remark  might  be  taken  as  literally 
true. 


THE   SCARE.  25 

The  two  women  made  solemn  business  of 
it,  barricading  the  lonely  house  that  night. 
At  moments  Corona  thought  of  Tom,  and  of 
Susy  and  the  baby  sleeping  in  his  big  pro 
tection.  But  she  patted  Matthew  Launcelot, 
and  cleaned  her  pistol,  and  drew  her  bolts, 
and  said  her  prayers,  and  kept  a  stout  heart, 
and  trusted  in  Puelvir  and  Providence,  — 
much  in  the  order  of  their  going  through  this 
sentence. 

Their  preparations  for  the  night  were  fear 
fully  and  wonderfully  made.  The  defenses 
of  the  Old  Maid's  Paradise  being  of  the  most 
primitive  nature,  feminine  ingenuity  was  put 
to  the  tests  of  despair.  When  Corona  had 
come  to  the  end  of  such  locks  and  bolts  as 
the  house  possessed,  she  drew  upon  her  inven 
tion  with  a  naivete  which  would  have  been  re 
freshing  to  the  intellect  of  the  burglar  ;  but 
it  is  one  of  the  few  advantages  left  us  by  our 
advanced  civilization  that  the  gentlemen  of 
the  nipper  and  jimmy  are  not  usually  wit 
nesses  of  the  innocent  devices  for  their 
amusement  offered  by  the  bosom  of  the  fam- 


26  BUKGLAllS   /.V   PARADISE. 

ily  in  hours  of  panic  ;  the  truth  being  that 
the  hours  of  panic  and  the  hours  of  peril 
in  this,  as  in  so  many  another  case,  fail  to 
coincide. 

Corona's--c// >/'/'</>//•/•,  consisted  in  coun 
terscarps  of  chairs  as  disposed  in  front  of 
windows.  She  was  confident  that  no  house 
breaker  could  pass  the  pyramids  and  Pisan 
Towers  and  Cleopatran  Needles  and  Bunker 
Hill  Monuments  which  she  constructed  from 
this  useful  article  of  domestic  I'lirnituiv.  H,-r 
confidence  only  came  to  an  end  with  her 
chairs.  Four  to  a  set  —  bought  "  in  the 
white"  —  brought  the  supply  in  Paradise  to 
a  visible  mathematical  end  in  the  course  of 
the  evening.  She  depended  on  sofa-pillo\\s 
until  she  remembered  that  they  were  not  a 
noisy  material  for  barricade  purposes  where 
the  main  value  must  consist  in  capacity  for 
waking  you  up.  She  had  what  Mr.  James 
would  call  "  a  phase "  of  faith  in  screws. 
But  Corona  had  never  in  her  life  been  able 
to  make  a  hole  for  the  screw,  or  to  get  the 
screw  into  the  hole  after  she  had  made  it 


THE   SCARE.  27 

In  this  case  a  native  disability  was  empha 
sized  by  the  absence  of  the  gimlet,  which  had 
shared  the  fate  of  the  hatchet  and  the  paper 
of  tacks.  When  she  had  labored  nobly,  but 
sadly,  with  the  corkscrew  for  half  an  hour  or 
so,  Puelvir  came  to  her  relief. 

"  Land,  Miss  Corona  !  A  screw  won't 
screw  without  a  gimlet  any  more  'n  you  can 
bury  a  coffin  without  a  grave." 

"  A  screw  won't  screw  for  a  woman,  I  'm 
afraid',"  said  her  mistress,  rather  plaintively. 
"  What  have  you  done  to  your  part  of  the 
house,  Puelvir  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Puelvir,  setting  her  arms 
akimbo,  and  breathing  very  hard,  "  I  've 
used  up  all  the  nails  in  the  house.  It  '11  take 
me  an  hour  to  dror  'em  out  come  mornin'. 
I  built  a  sort  of  meetin'-house  agen  that  there 
kitchen  winder  where  the  bolt  's  broke.  I 
built  it  outen  coal-hods  and  tongs  and  kitchen 
tables,  let  alon'  a  few  stove  covers  and  the 
biler.  Then  I  run  the  close-line  all  acrost 
the  dinin'-room  in  a  sort  of  slip-noose.  They 
can't  get  nowhere-acrost  that  dinin'-room  with- 


28  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

out  bein'  tripped  and  slip-noosed,  would  n't 
I  like  to  see  'em  !  " 

"  Excellent,  Puelvir!  "  said  Corona,  in  tones 
of  faint  admiration.  "  But  how  am  /  to  get 
across  the  dining-room  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  you  'II  have  to  go  to  bed  up  the 
outside  stairs,  through  my  room,"  said  Puel- 
vir,  serenely.  "  I  '11  light  the  lantern  and 
take  you  right  along." 

"And  those  five  burglars  watching  us  from 
the  street,  exposed  to  full  view  by  the  light 
of  that  lantern?  Never,  Puelvir!  We  will 
go  to  bed  in  the  dark.  What  else  have  you 
done  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Puelvir,  gleefully,  "  I  've  kep 
a  kitchen  fire.  That 's  what  I  've  done  !  " 

"  A  kitchen  fire  !  This  hot  night !  Why, 
what  in  the  world  "  — 

"  Hot  water,"  said  Puelvir,  fiercely.  "  And 
pokers.  Red  -  hot  pokers.  And  puilst'ul 
throw'd  on  'em  to  scalt  'em.  I  've  run  that 
piece  o'  hose  you  had  to  fetch  water  from 
the  spring  that  would  n't  fetch,  you  know  — 
up  from  the  kittles  into  my  room.  I  whit- 


THE   SCARE.  29 

tjed  a  hole  in  the  floor  to  get  it  through,  with 
the  bread-knife,  and  Mis'  Rowin's  old  axe.  I 
borryed  it  of  her.  I  told  her  I  wanted  to  cut 
some  of  them  biscuit  your  brother's  cook  made 
for  you  to  bring  home  in  the  lunch-box.  I 
had  to  tell  her  something.  I  was  n't  going 
to  give  her  the  particulars.  I  tell  you  what, 
Miss  Corona,  come  to  get  past  them  coal-hods, 
and  the  close-line,  and  all  them  nails,  and  the 
biler,  and  them  soap-stones,  and  that  there 
scaldin'  water  —  and  your  screws,"  added  Pu- 
elvir,  as  a  polite  after-thought,  "  I  '11  resk 
their  burglin'  much  in  this  house  to-night." 

Corona's  family  passed,  as  may  be  inferred, 
a  restless  night.  Mistress  and  maid  stole  up 
the  outside  stairs  to  bed,  in  the  dark,  guilt- 

%• 

"  Some  kind  neighbor  will  take  us  for  our 
own  burglars,  and  shoot,"  whispered  Corona, 
with  chattering  teeth. 

"  I  dessay  they  mought,"  replied  Puelvir, 
cheerfully.  Puelvir  was  in  high  spirits.  The 
duty  of  barricading  Paradise  had  greatly  ex 
cited  her.  It  was  impossible  not  to  suspect 


30  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

that  Puelvir  would  be  disappointed  if  nobody 
burgled  l  that  house. 

When  they  had  got  safely  past  the  slip- 
noose  and  the  boiling  water  and  the  pok»  r. 
and  engineered  their  way  by  the  fortresses  of 
chairs  without  tilting  them  down,  —  for  they 
hung  poised  with  a  delicacy  which  will  hardly 
be  credited  to  so  stolid  an  article,  unless  one  is 
familiar  \\itli  this  species  of  architecture,  — 
when  they  were  actually  in  their  rooms,  with 
the  doors  locked,  and  were  well-nigh,  indeed, 
in  bed,  a  pathetic  wail,  followed  by  an  impe 
rious  outcry,  startled  them  from  below.  They 
had  forgotten  Matthew  Launcelot. 

With  masculine  indifference  to  feminine 
agitations,  Matthew  Launcelot,  the  only  un 
disturbed  member  of  the  family,  had  slept  off 
the  exhaustion  of  travel  in  some  invisible 
haunt  down-stairs,  and  had  waked  under  the 
apparent  impression  that  he  himself  was  be 
ing  burgled  in  an  acute  form. 

1  I  use  this  word  without  apology  for  a  term  whu-h  the 
present  state  of  American  civilization  has  surely  rendered 
a  necessity  of  the  language. 


THE  SCARE.  31 

"  I  'd  rether  hev  burglars  than  that  dog," 
said  Puelvir,  scornfully.  "  He  's  more  trouble 
in  the  long  run,  and  less  use.  Whar  '11  he 
sleep  now  ?  " 

"  I  would  take  him  in  my  room  ;  but  it 
does  n't  seem  quite  fair  to  defend  myself  so, 
at  your  expense,"  said  her  mistress,  kindly. 
"  You  can  keep  him,  if  you  want  to." 

"  I  would  n't  take  the  critter  away  from 
you,"  said  the  maid,  politely.  "  It  would  n't 
become  me." 

It  was  decided  that  Matthew  Launcelot 
should  sleep  on  the  landing  at  the  head  of 
the  stairs,  between  the  bedrooms. 

"  That  divides  the  protection,"  observed 
Corona. 

"  And  halves  the  affliction,"  muttered  Puel- 
vir,  as  she  crept  down  again  (in  her  night 
dress  and  crimping  -  pins,  with  a  gossamer 
waterproof  too  short  for  her),  crawled  past 
the  hot  water  and  the  poker  and  the  clothes 
line  and  Bunker  Hill  monument  and  the  boiler 
and  the  hose,  and  returned  with  the  dog, 
whom  she  had  found  reposing,  with  an  in- 


32  BURGLARS  IN  PARAD! 

jured  air,  upon  the  middle  of  the  lace  pillow- 
sham  on  the  guest-room  bed. 

As  I  say,  it  was  a  very  restless  night. 
Every  nocturnal  sound  took  on  awful  propor 
tions  to  Corona's  straining  ear.  She  could 
not  sleep.  She  was  oppressed  with  her  sense 
of  responsibility  as  the  head  of  a  family,  if 
harm  came  to  the  innocent  creatures  entrusted 
to  her  care.  "  What  if  this  were  doubled, 
trebled,  sextupled,  by,  for  instance,  a  hus 
band  and  five  children  ?  "  she  thought.  It 
did  not  occur  to  her  at  the  moment,  —  so  pow 
erful  a  compress  is  the  habit  of  solitary  life 
upon  the  imagination,  —  it  really  did  not  oc 
cur  to  her  that  a  husband  would  halve,  much 
less  remove,  the  risk,  but  only  how  much  lie 
would  add  to  the  care. 

It  was  a  still  night  without,  that  is  to  say, 
there  was  no  wind;  and  Corona  tried  to  yield 
herself  to  the  peace  that  comes  in  the  power 
of  the  sea  to  those  who  understand  and  love 
it.  She  listened  to  the  incoming  of  the 
faithful,  friendly  tide  upon  the  beach  and 
lava-gorge.  She  watched  tin-  shimmer  of  the 


THE   SCARE.  33 

stars  and  head-lights  in  the  Harbor  ;  each 
star  made  an  arrow,  and  each  head-light  a 
shaft  of  fire  in  the  waves ;  where  the  an 
chored  boats  swung  trustfully  for  their  night's 
rest,  there  seemed  a  little  tunnel  of  flame  cut 
into  the  deep,  as  into  a  mine  of  light  that  lay 
ablaze  below  the  blackness.  Now  and  then 
a  belated  schooner  stirred  in  slowly  through 
the  calm,  lifting  her  sailing  signals  of  scarlet 
and  of  green  ;  these  pulsated  as  they  moved 
against  the  purple  sky.  One  ocean  steamer, 
put  in  for  some  unknown  errand,  reared  her 
huge  outline  in  the  channel,  with  high  and 
brilliant  lights.  The  shore  fishermen  were  all 
well  at  home,  and  except  for  the  sharp  rattle 
of  some  furling  sails,  or  the  clank  of  a  down- 
going  chain  as  some  unseen  boat  swung  to 
her  moorings,  the  Harbor  was  quite  still. 

Not  so  the  Old  Maid's  Paradise.  Every 
clapboard  squeaked.  Every  shingle  started. 
Each  blind  stirred  stealthily.  The  very  hogs 
head  groaned.  Mysterious  creaks  ran  along 
the  outer  stairs.  Inexplicable  moans  started 
from  the  hammock  on  the  piazza.  Heart- 


34  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

throbs  kept  time  to  every  real  and  unreal  in 
terruption  of  the  night's  repose.  Puelvir 
(and  her  crimpiiig-pinsi  sat  bolt  upright  in 
bed  between  dreams  of  having  her  throat  cut 
by  the  man  who  stole  the  paper  of  tacks,  and 
of  being  shot  by  Miss  Corona.  Matthew 
Launeelot,  sensitive  to  the  family  atmosphere, 
or  to  Puelvir's  criticism,  slept  fitfully,  and 
musically  divided  the  watches  of  the  night 
according  to  a  taste  and  a  conscience  of  his 
own.  When  he  did  not  bark  he  snored,  and 
when  he  did  not  snore  he  barked.  Thus  the 
night  passed. 

"  Puelvir,"  called  her  mistress  once,  through 
the  thin  walls,  "  are  you  asleep  ?  " 

"  Hain't  slept  a  wink,"  declared  Puelvir, 
starting  from  her  last  dream.  "  Who  could  ?  " 

"  You  did  n't  hear  —  anything,  did  you  ? 
You  don't  think  we  'd  better  go  down,  do  you 
—  and  see  ?  " 

"  It 's  them  flat-irons,"  called  Puelvir.  "  Or 
the  biler.  Mebbe  it 's  your  screws.  And 
how  to  mercy  are  we  ever  goin'  down  them 
outside  stairs  in  our  iiio-h''ownds  ?  " 


THE  SCARE.  35 

"  That 's  true,  Puelvir.  I  had  n't  thought 
of  it.  You  are  quite  right.  How  glad  I 
am  we  had  Matthew  Launcelot  sleep  up 
stairs  !  " 

"  Be  you  !  "  replied  Puelvir,  with  deep  sig 
nificance.  As  the  night  wore  on  its  way, 
Corona  sank  into  the  sleep  which  health  is 
sure  to  snatch  from  weariness  or  even  from 
anxiety.  She  was  resting  from  her  labors 
as  the  defender  of  her  family,  in  a  harrow 
ing  dream  that  she  had  married  a  minister 
in  Montana,  on  a  seven-hundred-dollar  sal 
ary,  when  she  was  roused  by  a  noise.  This 
time  it  was  a  real  noise.  It  was  a  terrible 
noise.  It  thumped  and  thundered,  it  shrieked 
and  shattered  through  the  silent,  helpless 
house.  Five  burglars  ?  Fifteen  burglars 
could  not  make  its  like.  The  two  women 
sprang,  by  one  awful  instinct,  and  faced  each 
other,  shivering,  on  the  landing.  Corona  had 
lighted  her  candle,  and,  true  to  her  military 
instincts,  grasped  her  revolver  —  by  the  muz 
zle.  Puelvir  appeared  with  her  hose  (the 
well-hose,  I  mean)  gripped  in  a  death-like 


36  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

clutch,  and  immediately  showered  Corona 
from  head  to  foot  with  the  water  from  tin- 
kettle  below,  which,  fortunately  —  the  fire 
being  low  —  was  n<>  longer  "  scalt,"  but  of 
the  temperature  of  melted  ice-cream  an  hour 
after  dinner. 

The  noise  meanwhile  continued,  and  ac 
celerated.  It  was  a  noise  that  delicd  descrip 
tion.  It  seemed  to  come  from  the  dining- 
room. 

"  I  am  going  to  descend,"  said  the  Head  of 
the  Family  in  a  hollow  voice.  u  It  is  my  duty. 
You  need  not  come.  Stay  and  save  yourself, 
Puelvir.  I  shall  go." 

"  If  you  think  you  're  a-goin'  to  be  mur 
dered  one  mortal  step  .without  ///'."  quavered 
Puelvir,  "  you  may  suit  yourself  to  another 
hired  girl." 

She  pushed  by  her  mistress,  and,  without 
another  word,  preceded  her.  Corona  fol 
lowed  in  a  dripping  condition.  Pallid  and 
panting,  they  crept  down-stairs.  Corona  held 
her  pistol  pointed  directly  at  Puelvir's  crazy- 
bone.  Puelvir  carried  the  hose,  which  was 


THE   SCARE.  37 

doggedly  sputtering  cold  water  all  over  the 
house,  with  a  general  air  of  meaning  to  hit 
somebody,  it  did  n't  much  matter  whom. 
Since  Corona  was  as  wet  as  she  could  be  al 
ready,  she  regarded  the  hose  with  indiffer 
ence. 

The  noise  continued  crescendo,  and,  guided 
by  its  direful  clew,  these  two  defenders  of 
their  altars  and  their  fires  courageously  made 
and  stood  their  ground  to  see  — 

Matthew  Launcelot.  Matthew  Launcelot 
and  the  clothes-line  struggling  together  in 
the  dining-room.  Straight  into  the  slip-noose 
—  and  nowhere  else  —  that  unhappy  dog  had 
walked.  There,  hanging,  strangling,  yelling, 
as  nobody  but  Matthew  Launcelot  could  yell, 
though  one  took  lessons  at  forty  dollars  a 
quarter,  the  protector  of  his  family  was  res 
cued  from  the  burglar's  fate  not  a  moment 
too  soon  for  the  preservation  of  his  valuable 
and  soothing  life. 

The  clothes-line  was  not  popular,  after 
this,  as  a  means  of  domestic  defense.  The 
slip-noose  was  voted  off  the  list.  Matthew 


38  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

Launcelot  now  slept  in  the  kitchen.  This 
required  the  abrogation  of  the  window  barri 
cade,  because  he  insisted  on  sleeping  in  the 
boiler,  and  it  (and  he)  tumbled  down  on  the 
stove,  about  midnight,  every  night.  On  iron 
ing  days,  when  the  stove  was  hot,  this  had  its 
disadvantages.  Gradually  the  soap-stones  and 
the  flat-irons  seemed  to  become  of  less  im 
portance.  The  nails  took  too  long  to  draw 
out  again.  The  chairs  in  the  parlor  got 
scratched,  and  Cleopatra's  Needle  fell  to  the 
earth  at  three  o'clock  A.  M.  one  night,  pro 
ducing  more  of  a  shock  to  the  nervous  sys 
tem  than  any  gentlemanly  Bostonian  burglar 
could  possibly  cause.  Corona's  screws  had 
never  got  more  than  half-way.  Thus  the  bur 
glar  alarm  of  Paradise  became,  like  those  of 
more  ambitious  homes,  "  more  expensive  than 
the  burglars,"  and,  as  fear  gave  way  before 
the  absence  of  adventure,  a  daring  disregard 
of  consequences,  united  to  the  native  indo 
lence  of  the  hour  preceding  bed-time,  led  the 
two  women  back  to  less  exciting,  if  less  in 
genious,  methods  of  locking  their  house.  As 


THE  SCARE.  39 

no  more  hatchets  or  roosters  were  stolen,  their 
terrors  slept.  Corona  ceased  to  reflect  upon 
the  anxieties  of  protecting  an  imaginary 
husband.  Life  in  the  matched-board  cottage 
reacted  to  more  than  its  usual  level  of  se 
renity. 

It  was  in  the  apathy  following  the  intensity 
of  that  first  experience,  perhaps,  that  Coro 
na's  thoughts  took  an  idle  and  luxurious  turn, 
which  she  one  day  communicated  to  the  part 
ner  of  her  joys  and  sorrows,  in  these  startling 
words  :  — 

"  Puelvir,  I  'm  going  to  buy  a  horse." 


ITL 

GOOD   FAMILY   HORSES. 

CORONA'S  announcement  of  her  intention 
to  purchase  a  horse  plunged  her  family  and 
immediate  circle  of  friends  into  one  of  those 
j >aiiics  of  good  advice  which  are  sure  to  fol 
low  (if  anything  follows)  the  unexpected  upon 
the  part  of  a  solitary  woman.  Corona  re 
flected  that  this  was  so  much  better  than  for 
nobody  to  care  enough  to  advise  her  that  she 
bore  it  with  grateful  good-humor.  Her  sister- 
in-iaw  wrote  by  return  mail  that  it  was  very 
extravagant,  and  that  she  would  need  the 
money  for  a  seal-skin  cloak  ;  but  finance  ami 
a  comprehension  of  Corona's  needs  were  not 
Susy's  strong  points.  Tom  telegraphed  : 
"You'll  get  cheated."  Some  old  friends 
known  as  Elf  and  Mary,  who  had  shared 
Corona's  first  summer  in  Paradise,  remon- 


GOOD  FAMILY  HORSES.  41 

strated  in  letters  of  thirteen  and  seventeen 
pages  respectively.  Elf  objected  on  the 
ground  that  Matthew  Launcelot  was  already 
as  much  of  a  zoological  responsibility  as  one 
woman  could  sanely  support.  Mary  said  that 
Mr.  Sinuous  said  that  it  was  better  to  hire 
from  the  livery,  on  account  of  the  blacksmith's 
bills  ;  but  then  Mary  was  still  a  bride. 

General  and  Mrs.  Wolchester  drove  over 
from  Gride's  farm  to  advise  Corona  to  substi 
tute  a  tricycle.  Some  Boston  acquaintances 
said  their  horses  always  had  the  heaves.  Old 
Father  Morrison,  the  lobster  man,  asked  where 
she  was  goin'  to  keep  the  critter,  and  remarked 
that  his  own  legs  was  good  enough  for  him. 
Mrs.  Rowin  claimed  that  horses  were  danger 
ous  animals  to  have  around.  Zero  cautiously 
observed  that  he  did  n't  know  a  boy  in  Fair- 
harbor  would  tackle  up  for  less  than  five  dol 
lars  and  seventy-five  cents  a  week.  Puelvir 
said  nothing  at  all  —  the  severest  form  of  per 
sonal  discouragement  which  Puelvir  was  ever 
known  to  throw  upon  her  mistress's  hopes  or 
purposes. 


42  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

To  all  of  this  kindly  interest  Corona  re 
sponded  with  a  cheerful  deference  to  the  vie\\  - 
advanced  in  each  respective  case,  and  pro 
ceeded  to  take  steps  for  the  furtherance  of 
her  own ;  a  course  of  conduct  which  made  all 
her  advisers  happy,  and  herself  besides,  —  and, 
that  was  a  good  deal  to  achieve. 

To  her  brother  she  wrote  as  follows  :  — 

"  DEAR  TOM,  —  Thank  you  for  your  offer 
to  come  down  and  buy  iny  horse.  You  know 
I  should  be  glad  to  have  you,  and  you  know 
you  won't  come.  Any  l  horse-sense '  for 
warded  to  me  by  telegraph  or  telephone,  in 
the  intervals  of  your  duties,  will  be  grate 
fully  receipted,  and  respected.  Until  you  do 
get  her,  I  think  I  shall  look  about  a  little  for 
myself. 

"  It  is  true  that  1  have  never  before  been  the 
purchaser  of  a  family  horse.  I  admit  it.  But 
when  1  think  of  the  years  I  have  driven  Susy 
down  town,  and  waited  for  her  to  do  her  shop 
ping  in  a  sleet-storm ;  when  I  remember  the 
occasions  upon  which  I  have  (in  your  unavoid 
able  absence)  harnessed  to  go  for  the  doctor 


GOOD  FAMILY  HORSES.  43 

for  the  baby,  —  usually  at  night,  —  and  to  be 
professionally  told  that  nothing  ailed  her; 
when  I  reflect  upon  the  August  afternoons, 
with  the  thermometer  at  95°,  that  have  seen 
me  jerking  and  cl'k'king  the  family  carryall 
along  to  give  the  baby  an  airing,  —  and  espe 
cially  upon  the  occasion  when  the  door  gave 
way,  and  she  tumbled  out  backward  and 
turned  a  somersault  between  the  wheels,  and 
landed  sitting  down  beneath  the  carriage ; 
when  I  recall  the  training  I  had  in  catching 
Old  Ben,  raw  from  the  pasture,  to  go  for  the 
mail,  because  Patrick  had  a  sick  headache, 
the  day  after  a  wake,  and  Susy  was  afraid  he 
would  break  down,  —  when  I  think  these 
things  over  calmly,  I  am  fain  to  ask,  how 
ever  modestly,  if  my  horse  education  will 
not  go  for  something  in  the  awful  risk  which 
I  feel  I  am  about  to  take  upon  myself. 

"  Cheated  ?  I  expect  to  get  cheated.  Why 
should  I  escape  the  universal  human  fate  ? 
But  worse  things  may  happen  to  a  woman 
than  to  be  cheated ;  and  I  want  a  horse,  be 
he  honest  or  a  rascal,  and  am, 

"  Yours,  CORO." 


44  BURGLARS  IN  PAR  A  DISK. 

Scarcely  twenty-four  hours  had  elapsed  since 
Corona's  intention  to  add  a  horse  to  her  do 
mestic  circle  had  been  mentioned  aloud,  before 
she  found  herself  in  the  heart  of  a  new  world. 
It  might  be  succinctly  called  the  Horse  World. 
The  delights  of  the  fireside,  the  enticements 
of  the  June  sky,  the  fascination  of  the  ocean, 
the  delicate  shift  and  play  of  summer  life,  re 
ceded  from  her  consciousness  like  plates  in  a 
magic  lantern.  Her  brain-cells  became  sten 
ciled  with  the  language  and  literature  of  the 
turf.  Anxious  to  proceed  upon  her  rash  ven 
ture  with  some  degree  of  intelligence,  she  had 
made  herself  the  possessor  of  a  book  called 
"  The  Horse  and  his  Habits."  When  anybody 
called  —  as  somebody  did  at  the  rate  of  six  or 
seven  a  day  —  with  a  horse  to  sell,  she  con- 
suited  this  useful  volume.  She  received  the 
impression  that  a  horse  was  the  most  delicate 
creature,  and  subject  to  the  richest  stock  of 
bodily  infirmities  of  any  specimen  of  organized 
life  known  to  our  present  civili/ation.  An  in 
fant  or  a  woman  was  nothing  to  it.  Beyond 
this  one  idea,  which  rapidly  assumed  the  dan- 


GOOD  FAMILY  HORSES.  45 

gerous  proportions  of  the  "  fixed,"  in  Corona's 
mental  life  at  this  period,  it  cannot  be  said  that 
she  brought  away  much  available  knowledge 
from  "  The  Horse  and  his  Habits."  She  pe 
rused  the  book  sturdily.  Tom  did  not  come. 
Of  course  Tom  did  not  come,  —  he  was  in  Ida 
ho  ;  it  was  something  about  bear-skins,  —  so 
she  clung  to  this  inteUigent  volume  bravely,  as 
the  sole  defense  between  herself  and  that  deli 
cate  sense  of  honor  well  known  to  belong  to 
the  jockey  considered  as  a  class.  Who  has 
ever  solved  the  riddle,  What  is  there  about 
horses  which  should  be  so  injurious  to  the  hu 
man  conscience  ?  Why  should  a  horse  make 
a  man  a  commercial  rascal,  rather  than  glue, 
or  cracked  wheat,  or  dry  goods,  or  soap  ? 

One  horse  in  particular  pleased  Corona  very 
much.  The  owner  had  come  every  day  with 
it,  and  stayed.  He  had  stayed  very  much. 
He  had  fastened  his  horse  to  the  clothes-post, 
beginning  on  Monday,  when  the  lines  were 
up,  and  outstayed  all  the  other  bids.  Corona, 
with  feminine  respect  for  the  pertinacious  in 
pursuit,  admired  the  perseverance  of  this  man, 


46  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

and  hated  to  hurt  his  feelings  by  refusing  to 
take  his  horse. 

Her  friend  Mary  had  come  over  to  stay  a 
few  days  (Mr.  Sinuous  said  she  might.  This 
was  the  more  praiseworthy  in  Mr.  Sinuous  be 
cause  he  himself  was  not  invited),  in  order  to 
help  Corona  through  this  trying  period.  The 
two  ladies  drove  together  from  morning  to 
night,  experimenting  with  the  different  ap 
plicants,  in  the  lazy,  delightful  country  fash 
ion  that  makes  horse-hunting  as  a  high  art 
a  pleasure  unknown  to  towns.  Through  mur 
muring  lanes,  where  the  bees  fastidiously 
tasted  the  barberry  blossoms,  over  the  bril 
liant  beaches,  and  deep  into  the  scented  woods, 
Mary  and  Corona  rode  and  rode.  They  rode 
with  old  horses,  young  horses,  sound  horses, 
sick  horses,  horses  that  went,  and  horses 
that  would  n't  go,  and  horses  that  went  more 
than  was  expected  of  them  ;  horses  that  ran 
away  with  them  and  horses  that  sat  down 
with  them,  horses  that  limped,  horses  that 
stumbled,  horses  that  coughed,  horses  that 
took  the  bits  between  their  teeth,  and  horses 


GOOD  FAMILY  HORSES.  47 

that  wouldn't  go  up-hill  without  a  lump  of 
sugar.  There  was  one  —  but  only  one  —  who 
kicked  the  dasher  down  when  he  met  the  first 
summer  boarder,  in  an  imported  shade  hat, 
constructed  in  the  form  of  an  orthodox  meet- 
in  or-house,  and  ornamented  with  muslin  sun- 

o  ' 

flowers. 

For  some  reason  sufficient  to  the  reader  of 
"  The  Horse  and  his  Habits,"  none  of  these 
animals  seemed  suitable  for  the  needs  of  her 
family,  and  she  returned  with  a  weakening 
heart  to  the  horse  tied  at  the  clothes-post  since 
Monday  morning.  His  owner  was  quite  sure 
that  he  would  fill  the  bill. 

"The  bill?"  asked  Corona.  "Fill  what 
bill  ?  We  have  n't  come  to  the  bill  yet." 

"  Pardon,  mum,"  said  the  man,  reddening 
a  little. 

Corona  looked  at  him  vaguely.  She  was 
still  deficient  in  "  horse-talk."  She  explained 
that  she  wanted  a  good  family  horse. 

She  was  assured  that  this  was  a  perfect 
specimen  of  the  kind  of  thing. 

Sound? 


48  ItURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

Sound  as  sense !  Had  n't  an  out  about  him. 

Corona  did  not  know  what  an  out  was. 
She  thought  it  might  be  some  new  kind  of 
disease.  So  she  consulted  "  The  Horse  and 
his  Habits  "  before  replying. 

"  It  is  n't  in  my  book,"  she  whispered  to 
Mary.  "  It  may  be  one  of  those  new  aggra 
vations  developed  by  the  epizootic.  But  as 
long  as  the  horse  hasn't  got  it,  I  don't  see 
that  it  matters.  Do  you  ?  " 

"  Why  —  n-no.  I  should  n't  think  it  did," 
said  Mary,  conscientiously. 

They  went  out  again  and  reexamined  the 
horse.  He  was  a  very  handsome  horse. 

Was  he  kind  ? 

Kind  as  a  tarrier  pup. 

Afraid  of  the  cars  ? 

Cars  ?  He  was  n't  afraid  of  the  Last  Trum 
pet. 

How  many  miles  an  hour  ? 

Ten,  week-days,  and  twelve  and  a  half  if 
you  wanted  the  doctor.  Easy. 

"  But  we  never  do  want  the  doctor,"  ob 
jected  Corona,  thoughtfully. 


GOOD  FAMILY  HORSES.  49 

Was  he  easy-bifcted  ? 

You  could  drive  him  with  a  hair-pin  and  a 
piece  of  sewin'-silk. 

His  price  ? 

Two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars. 

Lowest  price  ? 

Lowest  price  ;  that  was  fifty  dollars  less  Jn 
an  animal  with  his  points  would  bring  any 
where  else.  But  seein'  she  was  a  lady  —  sort 
of,  as  you  might  say,  unprotected,  no  men 
folks  to  deal  with  —  he  'd  let  her  have  it  for 
two  hundred  and  fifty,  cash  down. 

"  It  is  a  good  deal  to  get  a  horse  that  will 
never  have  the  outs,"  observed  Corona  sotto 
voce  to  her  friend.  "  And  he  is  so  handsome  ! 
I  think  I  will  take  him  —  on  trial." 

"  I  've  got  to  go  to  Boston  to  buy  a  Canady 
colt,"  objected  the  trader.  "  You  could  n't 
close  just  as  well  now,  could  you  ?  It  would 
be  a  great  convenience  to  me." 

Corona  was  sorry  to  inconvenience  him, 
but  she  thought  it  best  to  keep  the  horse  for 
half  a  day  or  so  before  she  bought  him.  She 
had  no  doubt  she  should  decide  to  keep  him. 


50  BURGLARS  IN  PARADl^K. 

She  liked  the  animal  very  much.  She  thanked 
the  trader  for  his  perseverance,  and  ordered 
the  horse  brought  round  for  a  drive  at  two 
o'clock.  His  name?  she  asked,  as  an  after 
thought  ;  they  had  found  it  a  little  difficult 
to  distinguish  among  the  horses.  The  horse- 
that-sat-down,  for  instance,  was  rather  long ; 
and  The-long-legged-horse-with-tlie-gout 
whatever  they  called  it  >  that-raii-over-a-wheel- 
harrow-and-a-bahy  took  time.  The  name  of 
this  very  handsome  horse  without  an  out  was 
Pepper. 

Corona  and  Mary  took  a  trial  trip  with 
Pepper.  He  started  off  excellently.  He  was 
exceedingly  handsome.  The  ladies  enjoyed 
driving  such  a  handsome  horse.  They  went 
over  by  the  celebrated  Long  Beach,  where 
the  waves  came  affectionately  to  the  most  sol 
itary  and  silver  sands  of  the  fair  coast-line. 
The  full  afternoon  coloring  was  on  the  water: 
the  horizon  line  quivered  with  sails;  the  sky 
Mazed  like  a  blue  mirror  of  the  gods  into 
which  no  mortal  face  should  gaze.  The  two 
friends  were  not  used  to  driving  in  Fairhar- 


GOOD  FAMILY  HORSES.  51 

bor,  and  they  felt  as  if  they  had  come  to  a 
new  place.  They  were  in  the  best  of  spirits, 
and  enraptured  with  the  handsome  horse. 
He  made  good  time.  He  was  easy  at  the  bit. 
He  had  no  dangerous  tricks. 

"And  he  looks,"  said  Corona  hopefully, 
"  as  if  he  had  a  strong  constitution." 

"  Perhaps,"  ^ventured  Mary,  "  he  has  had 
everything,  and  come  safely  out  of  it.  Let 
us  hope  so." 

"  I  think  I  shall  buy  him  to-morrow,  and 
put  him  in  Mr.  Jacobs's  barn,  and  get  Zero 
to  take  care  of  him,"  proceeded  Corona. 
"  It  will  be  a  great  comfort  to  have  de 
cided  on  a  horse  who  could  be  driven  with  a 
skein  of  sewing-silk  and  who  is  not  afraid  of 
the  Last  Trumpet,  and  especially  one  who 
would  go  for  the  doctor  in  twelve  miles  a 
minute." 

"  Was  it  twelve  miles  a  minute  f  "  asked 
Mary,  looking  a  little  puzzled.  "  And  — 
why,  there,  Corona,  look  there  !  No.  Look 
here. — What  upon  earth  is  the  matter  with 
this  horse  ?  How  queerly  he  acts !  " 


52  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

"  He  does  act  a  little  queerly,"  admitted 
Corona. 

"  He  does  n't  seem  to  feel  right  about  the 
leg  there." 

"  It  is  true,  he  does  n't ;  he  seems  to  jerk 
it  a  good  deal,"  faltered  Corona.  "  I  don't 
know  \vhat  it  means,  I  'm  sure." 

"Do  you  think  he's  harnessed  right?'' 
queried  Mary.  They  were  in  a  very  lonely 
place,  two  miles  from  a  man. 

"Oh,  yes!  I  know  it  isn't  the  harm— >. 
I  can  harness.  I  would  n't  take  a  lady  to 
drive  if  I  could  n't.  I  declare !  how  this 
horse  does  act !  I  wonder  if  he  has  n't  got 
the  outs,  after  all?" 

"  He  looks  like  one  of  those  wooden  jiimp- 
ing-jacks  you  put  in  children's  Christmas 
stockings,"  observed  Mary,  more  courageously. 

"  He  does  seem  uncomfortable,"  assented 
Corona.  **  But  I  don't  see  that  we  can  do 
anything  but  drive  back  and  ask  somebody." 

"  Let  us  ask  the  first  man  we  meet,"  sug 
gested  Mary.  "  He  is  likely  to  be  unpreju 
diced." 


GOOD  FAMILY  HORSES.  53 

"  Very  well,"  assented  Corona  again.  "  But 
if  I  had  *  The  Horse  and  his  Habits '  here  — 
I  left  it  at  home." 

The  first  man  they  met  was  a  letter-carrier. 
It  is  one  of  the  salient  points  of  Fairharbor 
that  you  meet  letter-carriers  in  the  wilderness 
almost  anywhere,  just  as  you  meet  lamp 
posts  in  the  forest ;  and  that  the  government 
kindly  supplies  them  (I  mean  the  carriers) 
with  little  open  buggies  to  ride  in. 

At  the  foot  of  the  long  sandy  hills,  in  the 
beautiful  width  of  marsh  and  thicket  and 
pools  of  bright  green  water,  with  the  sea  at 
their  backs  and-  the  city  two  miles  away  at 
their  faces,  the  two  ladies  met  the  letter-car 
rier  in  his  carriage,  and  asked  him  what  ailed 
their  horse. 

"  He  seems  to  hitch  his  leg  up  and  down 
in  a  singular  manner,"  said  Mary,  apologet 
ically. 

"I  haven't  paid  for  him,"  cried  Corona, 
hastily.  "  I  thought  I  'd  like  to  ask  some 
stranger  what  he  supposed  ailed  him." 

The  carrier   leaned  out   luxuriously  from 


54  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

the  open  buggy,  and  gave  one  languid  look 
at  Pepper's  right  hind  leg. 

"  Hain't  bought  him,  ye  say  ?  "  with  a  gen 
tle  smile. 

"  Oh,  no  ;  not  at  all.  But  I  had  thought 
I  should  until "  — 

"  I  would  n't  if  I  was  you,"  observed  the 
carrier,  driving  on. 

Without  offering  any  further  information 
tin*  officer  of  government  departed,  and  J«  it 
the  ladies  and  Pepper  to  their  reflection. 
Corona  said  she  should  drive  straight  to  the 
omnibus  man  and  ask  what  was  the  matter 
uith  that  horse.  She  did  so,  as  quickly  as 
possible ;  Pepper  meanwhile  striking  out  ob 
liquely  and  transversely  at  the  sweet  summer 
air  in  a  very  unpleasant  and  irregular  manner. 

"  He  ?  Oh  !  He  's  got  the  spring-halt," 
said  the  omnibus  man.  "  I  know  him.  He  's 
had  it  for  years." 

"The  string-halt?"  said  Corona  to  Mary 
as  they  walked  home.  "  I  don't  seem  to  re 
member  the  string-halt.  I  don't  believe  it  is 
in  my  book." 


GOOD  FAMILY  HORSES.  55 

"  You  '11  remember  it  now,"  said  Mary. 

As  Corona  did  not  purchase  that  handsome 
horse,  she  was  fain  to  look  about  a  little 
more.  She  received  a  letter  that  interested 
her  from  a  person  in  a  neighboring  village, 
who  said  he  had  a  horse  for  sale  which  he 
was  sure  would  please  her.  It  was  just  the 
horse  for  a  lady  to  drive.  He  hoped  she  would 
give  him  a  call.  He  would  be  honest  with 
her,  —  he  always  meant  to  be  honest  with  a 
lady,  —  and  tell  her  there  was  one  objection  to 
the  horse :  he  was  n't  exactly  handsome ;  but 
he  had  points  enough  to  make  up  for  that, 
especially  as  a  lady's  horse.  In  particular,  he 
was  very  kind.  Corona's  faith  in  the  com 
mercial  value  of  beauty  having  received  a 
shock,  she  was  inclined  to  look  up  the  horse 
who  owned  to  being  not  exactly  handsome ;  so 
she  and  Mary  drove  to  the  neighboring  vil 
lage  —  known  by  the  beautiful  Indian  name 
of  Carriesquall  —  to  see  the  homely  horse. 

He  proved  to  be,  indeed,  no  Adonis ;  but 
he  looked,  as  his  owner  averred,  kind.  In 
fact,  he  did  not  look  much  but  kind,  if  one 


56  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

told  the  truth.  He  was  big,  burly,  gray,  and 
serious.  He  had  a  philosophical  air,  and  re 
garded  Corona  with  the  manner  of  one  who 
could  teach  her  a  few  abstract  truths,  if  he 
thought  it  worth  his  while. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Corona,  "  we  have  trav 
eled  fourteen  miles  to  see  your  horse.  Is 
this  he?" 

"  This  is  he,"  was  the  proud  reply.  "  There 
isn't  a  better  horse  in  all  Carries»|uall,  for  a 
lady's  horse,  than  that  there  horse.  He  *s 
just  as  kind  "  — 

"  What 's  his  name  ?  "  asked  Corona. 

"  Wall,  we  call  him  the  Old  Army.  But 
you  ken  call  him  most  anything  you  chou-e. 
After  you  've  bought  him." 

"  Was  he  in  the  army  ? "  cried  Mary. 
"  How  interesting  !  Was  he  wounded  ?  '' 

"He  was  left  for  dead,"  said  Old  Army's 
master,  solemnly.  "  His  master,  which  was 
a  major-general,  never  expected  to  get  him 
home  alive." 

"  But  he  did  ?  "  asked  Mary,  breathlessly, 
quite  forgetting  herself. 


GOOD   FAMILY  HORSES.  57 

"  Yes,  marm.  He  did.  That  there  is  the 
very  horse.  And  he 's  as  kind  "  — 

"  He  looks  kind,"  observed  Corona,  ten 
derly.  «  How  old  is  he  ?  " 

Truth  compels  me  to  state  that  it  had  not, 
up  to  this  moment,  occurred  to  her  that  the 
military  career  of  Old  Army  in  the  Civil  War 
could  have  any  disadvantageous  connection 
with  his  age.  To  put  it  delicately,  was  it  not 
one  in  which  she  herself  shared  ?  Had  not 
she,  too,  lived  out  the  War?  And  did  it 
seem  other  than  year  before  last  since  she 
bade  Tom  good-by  in  the  dark,  on  the  pi 
azza,  at  their  fathers  house  ?  Handsome 
boy  !  How  brave  he  looked,  with  that  quiver 
in  the  lip  that  kissed  her  !  And  was  it  more 
than  last  year  that  she  caught  him  to  her 
heart  again  ?  Safe,  safe,  safe,  thank  God  — 
and  fought  it  through  !  No.  She,  too,  had 
"  been  through  the  War,"  and  to  her,  too,  as 
to  all  others  like  her,  it  was  a  living,  palpi 
tating  present,  on  which  age  could  lay  no 
hand.  A  quarter  of  a  century  since  Tom's 
regiment  marched  away  ?  A  quarter  of  a  cen- 


68  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

tiny  since  she  snatched  the  list  of  "  7\'/7A  d, 
Wounded,  Mix*iny"  in  the  blurring,  shak 
ing  paper  every  day?  A  quarter  of  a  cen 
tury  since  — 

"  He  's  just  as  k'nnl  "  — the  master  of  Old 
Army  was  saying  very  distinctly.  Corona 
started,  and  begged  his  pardon  —  and,  Mary, 
did  you  speak?  What  is  the  price,  sir,  of 
this  kind  and  patriotic  horse  ?  A  price  was 
named ;  but  Corona  did  not  listen,  did  not 
hear.  She  and  Old  Army  regarded  each 
other  closely.  She  looked  into  the  eyes  of 
the  ancient  warrior.  She  stroked  his  cheek 
tenderly.-  She  wanted  him.  But  the  veteran 
responded  to  her  gaze  with  a  deep  and  intel 
ligent  look.  He  knew  better  than  that.  If 
ever  a  horse  tried  to  say  to  a  purchaser,  — 
"  Don't  do  it !  You  're  very  complimen 
tary,  and  I  appreciate  it,  but  don't  you  do 
it ! "  that  horse  then  and  there  essayed  to  do 
that  thing. 

"  How  much  did  you  say  ?  "  asked  Corona, 
coming  slowly  to  herself,  and  trying  to  look 
like  "  The  Horse  and  his  Habits  "  bound  in 


GOOD  FAMILY  HORSES.  59 

two  volumes  at  Old  Army's  master,  who  re 
plied  that  he  had  said  one  hundred  and 
eighty  dollars. 

"  That  seems  a  large  price  for  so  old  a 
horse." 

"  Oh !  he  was  only  ten  come  last  March," 
said  Old  Army's  master,  confidently.  "  He 
ain't  what  you  'd  call  old  yet." 

"  He  is  n't  exactly  young,  you  know,"  de 
murred  Corona,  politely. 

"  Wall,  I  did  n't  suppose  you  was  after  a 
colt, — for  a  lady's  horse.  There's  this  about 
a  good,  mature  horse,  you  know.  He  's  had 
the  measles  and  all  those  juvenile  diseases. 
You  're  sure  he  has  n't  got  'em  to  go  through 
again." 

Mary  hastily  said  that  she  thought  this 
was  a  great  point. 

"  How  many  miles  does  he  make  ?  "  asked 
Corona,  pursuing  her  inquiries  more  rigor 
ously,  now,  by  force  of  reaction  from  that 
vision  of  a  score  of  years  ago.  Smoke,  blood, 
butchery,  the  arms  thrown  up  in  falling,  the 
flag  flung  to  the  bright  sky  above  it  all,  — 


60  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

let  it  pass.  Let  come,  as  come  it  must.  an«! 
pass.  Through  the  red  and  awful  mist  how 
pathetically  look  out  the  eyes  of  these  dumb 
things  that  we  made  soldiers  of,  who  learned 
the  deadly  skill  of  war,  acquired  its  valor, 
bore  its  tortures,  earned  its  glory  they  km-w 
not  how,  and  died,  they  knew  not  why  ! 

"How  fast,"  proceeded  Corona,  brin^ini;- 
herself  violently  back,  —  "  how  fast  can  Old 
Army  go,  on  an  average  ?  " 

"  Wall,  he  ain't  a  racer"  reluctantly. 

"I  perceive  that.  But  how  much,  for  in 
stance,  will  he  make  an  hour?  What  kind 
of  a  roadster  is  he  ?  " 

"  Wall,  he  don't  go  so  very  fast.  But 
he  's  an  excellent  lady's  hoss.  He 's  just  as 
k',nd"  — 

"  I  don't  underrate  his  kindness.  But  what 
I  want  to  know,  before  I  purchase  that  horse, 
is,  exactly  how  much  time  you  can  get  out  of 
him." 

"  If  you  feed  him  well  ?  "  hopefully. 

"  Oh,  yes  !     If  you  feed  him  very  well/' 

"  And  don't  over-use  him  ?  " 


GOOD  FAMILY  HORSES.  61 

"  Never." 

"  Give  him  twelve  quarts  a  day  and  his 
hay?" 

"  Certainly.  Fourteen,  if  he  wishes  it  and 
can  work  for  it." 

«  Wall,"  -  -  slowly.  «  Wa-al,"  faintly. 
"  He 's  an  excellent  lady's  hoss.  And  he  's 
as  kind  —  But  he  ain't  so  much  on  speed 
as  some  hosses  is.  Fact  is,  he  won't  " — 

"Well?     He  won't "- 

"  Why,  the  fact  is,  he  won't  trot  at  all !  " 


IV. 

THE    LADY   OF   8HALOTT. 

"  THERE  's  ben  a  horse-man  here  to  see 
you,"  said  Puelvir.  "  Three  of  him.  I  s< -ut 
the  fust  one  off  myself." 

"  Why,  Puelvir  !  " 

"  Well,  I  did.  He  had  a  sort  of  shiny, 
skity,  graham-flour  colored  horse  he  said  he 
was  sure  you  'd  buy.  So  I  asked  the  grocer 
when  he  come,  and  he  said  the  critter  had  the 
ganders.  He  said  he  'd  known  him  ever  since 
him  and  the  horse  were  babies." 

"  Did  n't  he  say  the  glanders,  perhaps,  Puel 
vir?" 

"  No  'm,"  said  Puelvir  stoutly.  "  This  horse 
had  the  ganders ;  I  'm  sure  of  it.  So  I  took 
it  upon  myself  to  tell  him  it  was  n't  your  re- 
ception-dav,  jind  you  couldn't  see  fashionable 
callers.  So  he  went  away.  He  swore  at  me, 
too." 


THE   LADY  OF  SHALOTT.  63 

"  Swore  at  you,  Puelvir  ?  " 

"  Yes.  He  said  I  was  a  darned  old  fool. 
I  don't  know's  I  blame  him.  I  hadn't  got 
my  switch  on,  and  I  think  I  do  look  a  little 
mature  mornin's.  The  next  one,  he  come  to 
the  front  door  and  sot  down  in  the  parlor,  do 
my  best.  He  said  he  'd  wait  for  you,  'n  there 
he  sot.  He  had  a  span  he  wanted  you  to 
buy.  I  told  him  you  could  n't  keep  a  span, 
because  you  had  n't  only  me,  and  I  could  n't 
take  care  of  two ;  it  would  interfere  with  the 
cookin'.  He  asked  eight  hundred  and  twenty, 
five  dollars  for  'em.  I  asked  him  what  he 
took  you  for." 

"  Dear  me,  Puelvir  !  You  do  turn  them 
off  easily." 

"  Well,  this  one  took  the  life  out  of  me. 
He  sot,  an'  sot.  I  warn't  agoin'  to  leave  him 
alon'  in  the  parlor,  so  I  sot  too.  He.  looked 
at  the  picters  and  the  photograph  albums  'n 
he  said  he  'd  heard  you  was  quite  well  along 
in  years  ;  but  he  'd  never  had  the  pleasure  of 
seem*  you  to  make  your  acquaintance.  I  told 
him  you  was  only  twenty-five,  and  had  re 
fused  more  offers  than  any  lady  I  knew  of." 


64  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

"  Why,  Pue/vir  ! " 

"  I  did.  I  knew  the  kind  of  feller  I  'd  got 
hold  of.  There  warn't  no  other  way  to  teach 
him  manners.  He  kinder  meeked  down  after 
that.  So  by  and  by  I  told  him  I  'd  got  a  pud- 
den*  to  make,  and  that  you  'd  gone  to  Carrir- 
squall  to  buy  a  horse  you  liked,  so  he'd  have 
to  excuse  me.  So  I  showed  him  the  door, 
and  he  drove  his  span  away,  spiliu'  for  a 
fight." 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  these  agitating  and 
depressing  days  that  there  came  a  telegram 
from  Tom.  It  was  dated  :  — 

"UNION  PACIFIC  RAILWAY, 
Latitude  and  Longitude  unknown, 
June  — ,  18  — ." 

and  ran,  — 

"  If  there  is  a  man  in  Fairharbor  you  can 
trust,  trust  him.  Have  known  good  horses 
got  that  way.  Can't  get  hack  till  August. 

"  TOM." 

Corona  filed  the  telegram  for  reference,  and 
mt -a M while  pursued  her  search,  with  various 
and  serious  results.  All  the  poetry  of  life  was 


THE  LADY  OF  SHALOTT.  65 

now  crushed  under  the  mailed  feet  of  horses. 
The  glamour  of  the  sea  and  shore  fled  before 
the  whip  of  the  jockey.  She  wondered  how 
long  it  would  take  whatever  comfort  she  did 
get  out  of  her  horse,  when  she  got  him  at  all, 
to  compensate  for  the  loss  of  spiritual  tone 
which  a  month  of  horse-hunting  had  cost  her ; 
and  then  it  occurred  to  her,  perhaps  for  the 
first  time  quite  intelligently,  to  wonder  how 
it  was  with  people  who  had  to  occupy  them 
selves  with  matters  which  interfered  with  the 
spiritual  tone,  and  how  fair  it  was  to  try  them 
on  the  same  sort  of  keyboard  or  tuning-fork 
by  which  one  would  set  the  moral  music  of 
different  lives. 

She  pursued  these  very  natural  reflections 
with  the  zest  of  novelty,  while  she  and  Mary 
drove  all  about  the  wonderful  Cape  in  the 
long  summer  days.  For  still  they  rode  and 
rode.  They  xode  with  pretty  horses  and  ugly 
horses,  serious  horses  and  frivolous  horsas,  safe 
horses  and  dangerous  horses.  There  was  one 
that  went  to  sleep  in  the  harness  while  they 
were  doing  errands,  and  snored.  There  was 


C6  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

one  which  they  decided  to  buy,  and  the  bar 
gain  was  all  but  irrevocably  dosed,  when  Old 
Father  Morrison  rowed  the  length  of  the  Har 
bor  against  a  head  wind,  and  arrival  in  an 
exhausted  condition  just  in  time  to  say  that  lie 
knew  a  man  who  knew  another  man  who  said 
his  diseased  wife's  sister  used  to  own  that 
horse,  and  then  he  was  spavined  and  blind  in 
one  eye.  There  was  one  very  interesting  an 
imal  that  Mary  took  a  fancy  to,  and  he  died 
of  an  attack  of  the  heaves  while  they  were 
driving  in  the  woods,  six  miles  from  home. 
Mary  thought  he  had  the  whooping-cough,  and 
declared  the  trouble  was  that  the  horse  was 
too  young.  There  was  another  which  deeply 
attracted  Corona,  but  when  her  interest  in  him 
had  reached  an  advanced  stage,  one  pleasant 
morning  he  had  the  blind  staggers,  and  ran 
away  with  them,  and  threw  them  both  out  into 
a  blackberry  thicket,  and  the  owner  sent  in  a 
bill  for  the  buggy. 

Matters  were  in  this  discouraging  position 
when,  one  day,  Puelvir  said  a  very  pleasant- 
complected  gentleman  had  come  to  see  about 


THE  LADY  OF  SHALOTT.  67 

a  horse,  and  she  had  told  him  her  mistress 
would  be  down  directly.  When  Corona  an 
swered  this  summons,  she  was  surprised  to  find 
an  old  Fairharbor  acquaintance  who  had 
moved  to  a  neighboring  town,  and  whom  she 
had  not  seen  for  some  time.  His  name  was 
Thumb,  Mr.  Thumb.  He  was  a  carpenter. 
She  greeted  him  cordially.  Had  he  not  once 
been  a  neighbor  ?  And  Fairharbor  neighbors 
all  wore  a  kind  of  glamour  to  Corona.  Each 
one  seemed  to  belong  to  her,  to  compose  her 
life  in  concentric  layers,  as  the  rings  compose 
a  tree. 

"  I  did  n't  know 's  you  'd  recollect  me," 
said  Mr.  Thumb. 

Corona  assured  him  that  she  had  never  for 
gotten  him. 

"  I  heard  tell  you  wanted  a  horse,"  said  Mr. 
Thumb. 

Corona's  heart  sank  ;  but  she  admitted  the 
fact. 

"  Hain't  been  very  lucky,  have  ye  ?  " 

Not  very.  But  she  hoped  to  succeed  in 
time. 


68  BURGLARS   IN  J'.\l!.\  IHSK. 

"  Do  you  remember  my  little  boy  ?  "  asked 
the  old  neighbor,  abruptly. 

"  Oh  !  perfectly,"  said  Corona.  "  Which 
little  boy?  Bob,  or  Freddy?  Or  Benjamin 
Franklin,  or"  — 

"  Not  any  of  them"  interrupted  the  father. 
"  I  mean  my  other  little  boy,  my  little  dwarf 
boy." 

"Ah!    Yes,  indeed,  I  do." 

"  The  little  deformed  fellow,  —  hunch-back. 
they  called  him." 

"  Of  course  I  remember  him.  Tommy, 
was  n't  he  ?  " 

"  Yes,  marm,  Tom  was  his  name.  It  was 
a  very  unfort'nate  name.  But,  you  see,  me  'n 
his  mother  didn't  know  he  was  going  to  be 
like  that  when  we  named  him,  and,  seeing  he 
was  christened  so,  his  mother  did  n't  like  to 
alter  it ;  for  she  's  pious,  being  a  perfessor. 
Reminded  his  name,  I  think,  some.  It  made 
him  shy  of  tin-  other  children.  He  always 
liked  to  be  round  a  house  with  women  folks." 

"  Yes,  I  remember,"  said  Corona,  softly. 
"  He  was  a  dear  little  fellow.  How  is  he 
now?" 


THE  LADY  OF  SHALOTT.  69 

"  Do  you  remember  how  you  used  to  have 
him  over  to  see  you  when  you  was  a  summer 
boarder,  before  you  ever  built,  or  his  moth 
er  'n  me  moved  out  o'  town  ?  " 

"  I  had  almost  forgotten  that.  I  only  re 
member  what  a  dear  little  gentle  thing  he 
was." 

"Wall,  you  did.  You  used  to  ask  him 
over  to  sit  in  your  hammock  and  play  picture- 
books  on  your  floor.  He  was  very  fond  of 
you." 

"He  said,"  added  Mr.  Thumb,  after  a 
pause,  "  that  he  felt  like  other  boys  when  he 
went  to  see  that  lady.  He  liked  you.  You 
were  good  to  him.  Don't  you  remember,  too, 
when  he  had  the  fever,  settin'  up  nights  with 
him  one  spell  ?  And  taking  of  him  to  ride 
when  he  got  better  ?  " 

"It  was  such  a  little  thing  to  do,"  said 
Corona,  with  her  eyes  full.  "  I  was  well.  I 
was  perfectly  able.  Anybody  would." 

"Do  you  think  so?''  asked  Mr.  Thumb, 
slowly.  "  Well,  I  don't  know.  But  his 

mother  and  me  remember  it.     You  made  him 

i 


70  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

a  Jack-o'-lantern,  too ;  he  called  it  a  Jack-me- 
lantern  ;  he  had  such  queer  little  ways.  So  I 
thought  I  'd  come  over  to  see  you.  I  "  — 

Mr.  Thumb  hesitated,  rose,  sat  down  again  ; 
the  color  came  all  over  his  plain,  straightfor 
ward  face. 

"  I  don't  know  how  to  say  the  thing  I  've 
come  for  to  say,  now  I  've  got  here,  exactly. 
It  ain't  a  common  sort  of  business." 

"  Is  Tommy  pretty  well  ?  "  asked  Corona, 
cheerfully,  to  help  him  on. 

"I  —  guess  so,"  said  the  father,  looking 
hard  into  his  hat.  "  I  hope  the  little  fellow  's 
well  these  days.  He  died  last  March."  .  .  . 

"  Oh  ' "  cried  Corona,  in  her  quick,  impul 
sive  way.  "  Oh  !  you  poor  people  !  Oh  !  I 
never  heard  about  it !  " 

But  she  did  not  say  she  was  sorry.  Who 
could  be  sorry  for  Tommy  ? 

"  Of  course  he 's  well,"  she  whispered, 
"  and  straight,  and  —  like  the  other  boys. 
Dear  little  Tommy  !  " 

She  found  it  hard  not  to  say,  How  glad  I 
am !  But  a  glance  at  the  father's  face  re- 


THE   LADY  OF  SHALOTT.  71 

strained  her.  Great,  sparse  tears  were  falling 
into  the  carpenter's  old  felt  hat.  He  brushed 
them  away  with  the  back  of  his  hand. 

(Do  working-people  do  this  because  grief 
cannot  wait  for  time  to  wash  the  fingers?) 
He  brushed  away  the  tears,  and  rose  to  go. 

"  He  died  very  quick  and  easy,  marm.  No 
body  knew  what  ailed  him.  But  he  's  dead. 
His  mother  and  me,  we  miss  him  more  'n  you 
think  we  would.  .  .  .  And  when  I  heerd 
you  wanted  a  horse,  and  the  way  them 
traders  was  puttin'  on  you,  I  says  to  his 
mother,  I  '11  sell  her  my  mare,  if  she  wants  it. 
And  I  come  over  to  say  so.  Would  you  like 
to  see  her  ?  She  's  tied  outside." 

Corona  remembered  Tom's  telegram,  and 
she  glanced  at  Mr.  Thumb  keenly. 

"  You  are  very  good,"  she  began,  not 
knowing  what  to  say. 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Thumb,  putting  his  hat 
on.  "It's  not  that.  Dare  say  I  shall  sell 
the  mare  anyways  to  somebody.  I  want  the 
ready  money.  I  shall  have  to  ask  you  her 
vally.  She'll  fetch  it,  any  time.  If  you'll 


72  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

trust  me,  I  won't  take  a  cent  beyond  it. 
She's  sound,  and  she's  kind,  and  she's  all 
I  '11  sell  for.  And  she 's  a  pretty  fair  road 
ster.  Tommy  was  very  fond  of  that  mare." 

"  I  don't  sell  her  so  much  to  make  a 
trade,"  added  Mr.  Thumb,  lifting  his  licad, 
"  as  I  do  because  I  want  to  sell  you  a  good 
horse.  I  says  to  his  mother,  *  She  's  been 
kind  to  me.'  If  you  feel  inclined  to  trust 
me,  ma'am —  You  needn't,  if  you  don't 
choose,  you  know ;  there 's  no  obligation  to 
it.  But  you  've  been  kind  to  me,  and  I  'd 
like  to  see  you  have  a  good  horse  !  " 

"  I  think,"  he  said  again,  "  that  mebbe 
Tommy  'd  like  it  if  he  was  round,  you  know. 
...  He  ain't,"  added  the  father,  pitifully. 

The  lady  and  her  old  neighbor  looked  into 
each  other's  eyes  for  a  moment,  then  Corona 
held  out  her  hand. 

"  Let  us  go  out  and  see  the  horse,"  she 
said,  in  a  low  voice.  "  If  I  like  her,  I  shall 
take  her  on  trusty  Mr.  Thumb." 

Mr.  Thumb's  eyes,  though  they  were  still 
wet  because  of  Tommy,  twinkled  pleasantly. 


THE  LADY  OF  SHALOTT.  73 

He  thought  of  his  ready  money ;  but  it  was 
without  alarm.  A  new  phrase  had  been 
added  to  the  "  horse  talk "  with  which  he 
was  familiar ;  he  repeated  it  to  himself  with 
a  decorous  chuckle. 

"  She  '11  take  her  on  tmst,  will  she  ?  Come, 
I  like  that  now !  "  as  he  untied  the  mare  from 
the  clothes-post  and  brought  her  out  into  the 
road. 

She  was  a  pretty  creature.  Corona  took  in 
her  points  rapidly,  with  an  eye  which  experi 
ence  was  training  to  the  imperfect  extent  to 
which  experience  can  do  much  for  any  of  us. 
The  mare  was  a  good  color,  a  chestnut ;  she 
had  a  straight  backbone  and  broad,  solid 
hips,  a  clean-cut  hoof,  and  eyes  which  indi 
cated  that  she  carried  her  heart  in  her  brains. 
Her  teeth  said  that  she  was  about  five  years 
old.  She  carried  her  head  daintily,  had  a 
fine  and  sensitive  skin  and  an  air  of  refine 
ment,  which  tells  as  quickly  in  a  horse  as  in 
a  woman.  She  seemed  to  be  in  excellent 
health.  Mary  said  she  did  not  believe  any 
thing  would  ail  that  horse  unless  it  should  be 
nervous  exhaustion. 


74  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

Puelvir  said :  — 

"  If  you  've  got  to  have  another  critter, 
that 's  the  critter !  " 

Matthew  Lanncelot  came  out  and  sniffed 
at  the  mare's  delicate  ankles,  critically.  He 
had  taken  no  interest  in  this  horse  business ; 
it  had  filled  him  from  the  first  with  a  melan 
choly  which  at  times  amounted  to  misan 
thropy  ;  he  turned  his  back  after  a  moment's 
inspection,  with  the  air  of  a  connoisseur  uhose 
opinion  was  undervalued ;  returned  to  the 
parlor  sofa  in  disdain  ;  then  suddenly,  seem 
ing  to  he  overcome  by  emotion  more  powerful 
than  mere  social  prudence  could  manage,  he 
darted  out,  planted  himself  directly  in  front 
of  the  horse,  eyed  her  with  savage  intent  ness, 
and  proceeded  to  lift  up  his  voice  in  a  series 
of  prolonged  and  deafening  howls,  which 
reverberated  from  cliff  to  bowlder  with  the 
force  of  anguish  bursting  from  a  soul  misun 
derstood. 

"  The  creetur  's  jealous  of  the  critter," 
said  Puelvir.  "  I  would  n't  have  s'posed  he 
had  the  brains.  I  tliink  the  more  on  him." 


THE  LADY  OF  SHALOTT.  75 

Corona  patted  the  dog,  who  received  her 
caresses  scornfully ;  but  she  looked  into  the 
eyes  of  the  horse  herself  with  a  premonition 
that  was  half  sadness. 

"  Shall  I  love  you  too  ?"  she  thought.  For 
Corona  had  learned  that  increase  of  love  is 
always  increase  of  sympathy,  and  hence  of 
pain  ;  and  that  it  was  a  toss-up  in  the  dice  of 
fate  whether  so  much  as  the  heart  of  a  dumb 
thing  is  to  be  won  without  more  cost  than 
comfort.  The  ladylike  horse  returned  her 
gaze  with  a  certain  solemnity.  She  seemed 
to  say  she  understood.  She  seemed  to  say  : 

"  On  the  whole,  does  n't  it  pay  ?  " 

"  I  '11  try  her  on  the  beach,"  said  Corona, 
abruptly. 

She  took  the  mare  out  for  an  hour ;  she 
would  let  nobody  go  with  her  ;  she  felt  that 
they  must  understand  each  other  by  them 
selves.  The  pretty  creature  was  an  excellent 
roadster.  She  had  her  little  fears  and  tre 
mors  and  frolics,  as  any  horse  of  spirit  ought 
to  have  ;  but  she  yielded  to  the  voice,  and 
knew  no  tricks.  Corona  came  home  in  love, 


76  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

—  hopelessly  in  love,  and  in  chains  to  the 
little  pony.  She  preserved  her  worldly  pres 
ence  of  mind  so  far  as  to  say  that  she  would 
keep  the  horse  in  a  neighbor's  stahle  for 
twentv-i'our  hours  on  trial,  with  Mr.  Thumb's 
permission  ;  but,  in  fact,  she  meant  to  buv, 
and  he  knew  she  meant  to.  The  deed  was 
practically  done. 

"  What  is  her  name,  Mr.  Thumb  ?  "  asked 
Corona,  at  the  last  moment,  as  Mr.  Thumb 
prepared  to  catch  the  ferry  to  catch  the  train 
that  would  take  him  home  without  tin-  mare. 

"  We  called  her  Betty,"  said  Mr.  Thumb, 
apologetically. 

"  I  shall  call  her  the  Lady  of  Shalott,"  said 
Corona,  decisively. 

"  The  what?  "  asked  Mr.  Thumb,  with  his 
mouth  open.  "  The  Lady-as-she-Ought  ? 
Well.  Don't  know  's  I  ever  heard  a  horse 
called  by  that  name  before.  Don't  know  but 
it  becomes  her,  too.  '/'<>////////  called  her 
Betty  ;  that 's  all." 

"  I  might  call  her  the  Lady  Betty,  half  the 
time,"  said  Corona,  quickly,  "  just  to  reniem- 


THE  LADY  OF  SHALOTT.  77 

her  Tommy  by.  She  shall  always  be  Betty 
to  you,  Mr.  Thumb.  When  do  you  want 
your  ready  money,  if  I  keep  the  horse  ?  I 
shall  have  to  go  to  Boston  to  get  it.  Will 
day  after  to-morrow  do  ?  " 

Mr.  Thumb's  face  lighted  with  the  gleam 
that  never  was  on  sea  or  land  in  Fairharbor 
commerce.  "  Day  after  to-morrow ! "  in  a 
community  where  the  lavish,  reckless  habits 
of  the  sea  invade  the  mortgaged  shore  to  an 
extent  that  makes  ready  money  a  psychical 
phenomenon,  —  "  day  after  to-morrow !  " 

"  I  would  n't  put  ye  out,"  said  Mr.  Thumb, 
hurrying,  radiant,  home  to  tell  it  all  to  Tom 
my's  mother. 

"  Day  after  to-morrow !  "  said  Mary.  "  I  'm 
afraid  it  will  be  hot.  But  I  '11  go  with  you." 

"  Day  after  to-morrow  !  "  echoed  Puelvir. 
"  I  '11  cook  a  cabbage  and  have  a  biled  dinner, 
while  I  get  the  chance,  and  nobody  nigh  to 
hender." 

It  happened  that  the  little  family  thus  idly 
went  about,  each  repeating  the  words  with 
some  trifling  personal  emphasis  of  her  own, 


78  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

"  Day  after  to-morrow  !  "  as  each  afterward 
remembered. 

"  When  do  you  want  me  to  begin  to  work 
for  wages  ?  "  asked  Zero,  as  he  took  away  th. 
Lady-as-she-Ought  to  get  her  dinner.  "Day 
after  to-morrow  ?  " 

u  Here  *s  another  of  them  Christian  Union 
Telegrabs,"  said  Puelvir,  coming  int(»  the  par 
lor  that  evening  with  her  switch  on  ami  her 
white  apron.  "  The  boy  wants  twenty-five 
cents,  he  says,  for  bringing  of  it  down.  I  told 
him  I  'd  give  him  five,  for  you  supported  the 
Company,  and  they  'd  ought  to  deliver  their 
own  goods,  like  other  folks  do." 

The  telegram  was  from  Tom.  It  was  dated 
in  Canada,  and  said  :  — 

"  Can  have  my  old  buggy  and  second  har 
ness.  Welcome.  Tell  Patrick  freight  Fair- 
harbor.  Home  in  three  weeks.  TOM." 

"  Dear  Tom  !  "  said  Corona.  "  The  Holy 
Catholic  Inquisition  could  not  compel  him  to 
write  me  a  letter.  He  says  it  is  so  miu-li 
cheaper  to  telegraph.  But  he  does  remem 
ber." 


THE  LADY   OF  SHALOTT.  79 

She  went  singing  about  The  Old  Maid's 
Paradise  that  evening ;  her  heart  felt  warm 
and  human,  and  what  Puelvir  would  call 
"like  folks."  She  held  Matthew  Launcelot 
lovingly,  and  told  him  the  Lady  of  Shalott 
should  never  turn  him  off  the  parlor  furni 
ture  and  the  lace  pillow-shams,  nor  even  from 
the  fine  white  shawls  he  always  preferred  for 
cushions  on  muddy-  days.  Matthew  Launce 
lot  kissed  her  gratefully,  and  heaved  a  long, 
long  sigh.  Those  who  love  dogs  know  how 
much  these  deep  sighs  signify  in  their  emo 
tional  history.  Matthew  Launcelot  was  very 
happy.  Puelvir  was  happy,  too.  After  her 
dishes  were  done,  she  sat  out  on  the  rocks  and 
watched  the  sun  go  down,  with  a  clean  cook 
ing-apron  over  her  head.  Puelvir  could  sing, 
herself,  when  she  was  happy.  She  sang  a 
verse  of  a  hymn  she  liked  :  — 

"  Set  ye — e — ee  your  tre — a — as — ure  i — in  the  skyes  ! 
,  Where  thie — e— eeves  break  throu — ongh  nor  steal  !" 

She  sang  on  a  high  and  solemn  quaver.  Tha 
summer  boarders,  strolling  on  the  bright,  wet 
beach,  looked  up  and  smiled  to  hear  her.  It 


80  BURGLARS  IN  1\\  /,'. I />/>/•;. 

was  a  gentle,  affectionate  night.  The  waves 
patted  the  grim  rocks  like  children's  fingers. 
The  sky  was  the  color  of  the  rose  which  we 
call  L<i  J-'nuire.  The  air  was  fresh  and 
tender.  All  the  outgrowth  of  the  sea  had  a 
joyous  mood.  Peace  was  in  Paradise.  E\»  n 
Zero  went  over  to  the  stable  to  stroke  the 
Lady  of  Shalott,  lest  she  should  be  homesick. 
(If  the  truth  must  be  told,  the  Lady  resented 
this,  because  Zero  had  been  stripping  mack 
erel.)  But  Mary  lighted  a  lamp,  and  sat 
down  in  a  halo  of  mosquitoes  to  write  to  Mr. 
Sinuous.  She  missed  him.  This  is  the  unfor 
tunate  difference  between  an  old  maid  and  a 
young  wife.  Corona  and  Puelvir,  who  missed 
nobody,  felt  that  they  had  the  advantage. 


V. 

FEE-FI-FUM    AND    I.    O.    TJ. 

CORONA  and  Mary  went  to  Boston  to  get 
Mr.  Thumb's  ready  money  for  the  Lady  of 
Shalott.  It  proved  to  be  a  very  warm  day. 
The  two  ladies  left  the  shore  with  the  pas 
sionate  regret  of  "  summer  people  "  doomed 
to  a  day  in  town.  To  put  off  the  short, 
straight,  sturdy  beach-dress,  and  to  put  on 
flounces  and  a  waist  with  a  lining  across  the 
shoulders  ;  to  leave  behind  the  shade-hat  that 
hangs  like  the  arch  of  merciful  heaven  be 
tween  one's  eyes  and  the  July  sun,  and  to  be 
abandoned  to  a  piece  of  lace  and  an  artificial 
flower  on  top  of  the  head ;  to  squeeze  tanned 
hands  into  tight  gloves,  and  happy  feet  set 
at  ease  by  tennis-shoes  into  new  boots  with  a 
French  heel ;  to  begin  to  grow  warm  in  the 
omnibus,  too  warm  at  the  station,  miserable 

6 


82  BURGLARS  IN  PAJIAWSK. 

at  the  first  stop,  desperate  at  Beverly,  dan 
gerous  at  Salem,  frantic  at  Chelsea,  and  pa>t 
jiraying  for  by  the  time  one  reaches  Soiner- 
ville, — this  is  to  go  to  town  from  Fail-har 
bor  in  July.  To  gasp  for  one  blessed  breath 
like  a  Cape  Ann  mackerel  in  a  dory  ;  to  find 
one's  necessary  errands  dwindling  to  an  incon 
ceivable  minimum  by  tin-  time  the*  open  horsc- 
rnr  comes  in  sight  of  the  Old  South  Church  ; 
to  become  convinced  before  yon  turn  up  Tem 
ple  Place  that  everything  von  came  in  t';>r  can 
wait  better  than  not  till  December  ;  to  Hee  to 
Parker's  and  call  for  ice,  and  tell  the  waiti  r 
you  have  had  a  sun-stroke  :  to  sit  clin^in^  to 
the  time-table  of  the  Eastern  Division,  for 
dear  life,  in  fierce  demand  for  an  earlier  than 
the  earliest  train  that  will  take  you  home 
again  :  to  divide  the  blistering  moniei.--  l>v 
wondering:  how  the  cashier  and  head  waiter 

O 

bear  it,  and  by  visions  of  getting  into  your 
bathing-clothes,  and  wading  out,  barefoot, 
neck-deep  into  that  great,  brown,  blessed  wave 
which  is  at  this  instant  wasting  itself  in  front 
of  your  deserted  door  ;  to  vow  that  if  you 


FEE-F1-FUM  AND  I.    0.    U.  83 

ever  see  that  wave  and  that  door  once  more, 
the  contents  of  the  Safety  Vaults  of  State 
Street  and  the  Equitable  Building  could  not 
tempt  you  to  leave  again  till  the  first  snow 
storm,  —  this  is  to  go  to  town  from  Fairhar- 
bor  in  July. 

The  ladies  went.  It  was  warm,  —  very 
warm.  They  found  Corona's  man  of  busi 
ness.  He  looked  warm,  - —  too  warm.  They 
sat  and  mopped  and  sopped  and  fanned  and 
looked  at  each  other  with  a  civil  endurance 
during  the  transaction  of  the  errand.  Corona 
felt  that  the  broker  regarded  it  as  a  very  small 
errand  to  be  troubled  with  on  a  day  like  that. 
She  missed  Tom,  who  had  been  her  usual  ad 
viser,  and  hoped  she  should  make  no  mistake 
which  would  endanger  the  financial  interests 
of  the  country. 

"  You  see,"  she  explained,  "  I  am  going  to 
make  a  purchase  to-morrow  that  requires  a 
good  deal  of  ready  money.  My  bank  account 
won't  meet  it." 

"A  new  portiere,  perhaps?  Or  a  Persian 
rug  ?  "  inquired  the  gentleman,  smiling  idly. 


84  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

He  was  an  old  friend  of  the  family,  and  privi 
leged  to  a  certain  amount  of  chaffing,  in  con* 
sideration  of  the  trouble  that  friendship 
pecially  a  lady's  friendship)  is  sure  to  cost  a 
business  man. 

When  Corona  told  him  that  it  was  a  new 
horse,  the  business  man  gave  his  eyebrows  a 
Gothic  arch. 

"  Brother  select  him  for  you  ?  " 

"  My  brother  is  in  Canada.  I  selected  the 
horse  myself." 

"  Ah  ?  "  said  the  business  man.  But  he 
said  no  more.  He  knew  where  his  business 
ended  and  hers  began  ;  or,  more  probably,  it 
was  too  warm  to  express  his  reflections.  They 
bubbled  and  melted  away  into  that  kind 
of  inane  and  mute  compassion  with  which  one 
regards  other  people's  affairs  in  July  in  Bos 
ton. 

"  I  must  sell  a  bond,"  said  Corona,  —  "a 
small  bond.  I  thought  I  would  like  to  ask 
your  advice  about  it.  I  promised  to  pay  for 
the  horse  to-morrow." 

"  Good  horse  ?  "  asked  the  man  of  business, 
hesitating. 


FEE-FI-FUM  AND  L    O.    U.  85 

"  I  think  so,"  said  Corona.  "  I  trusted  a 
man  to  do  the  right  thing  by  me." 

"  Trusted  —  a  man  ?  "  cried  the  broker, 
forgetting  himself.  "  About  a  horse  ?  " 

"  I  did,"  firmly.  "  I  don't  know  that  it 
would  be  any  worse  to  be  cheated  trusting 
than  to  be  cheated  suspecting.  Would  it  ?  " 

"  Possibly  not,"  mused  the  broker.  He 
looked  as  if  he  had  never  thought  of  that. 

"  Assuming,  of  course,"  said  Corona,  "  that 
I  am  to  be  cheated  anyhow." 

"  Oh  !  yes,"  said  the  business  man,  prompt 
ly,  "  assuming  that,  anyhow.  But  about  this 
bond  ?  You  might  sell  your  '  Phi  Beta  Kappa 
and  Alpha  and  Omega,'  —  that  Arizona  bond, 
you  know." 

"  Phi  Beta  Kappa  is  a  thousand-dollar  bond, 
is  n't  it,"  objected  Corona.  "  I  don't  want 
to  sell  a  large  investment." 

"  There 's  your  Horse  Railroad  Scrip  in 
Scatteree  ;  I  think  you  have  six  shares  of  that, 
if  I  remember." 

"  I  've  forgotten  where  Scatteree  is," 
pleaded  Corona,  with  humility.  She  was  apt 
to  forget  where  things  were. 


86  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

The  broker  reminded  her  that  Scatteree 
was  in  Yucatan. 

"  Or,"  he  suggested,  "  you  could  part  with 
one  of  those  New  Jerusalem  City  6s  Water 
Loan.  They  are  selling  at —  Dick!  What's 
New  Jerusalem  6s  Water  Loan  quoted  at  to 
day  ?  One  hundred  and  seventeen  and  three 
quarters?  You  could  sell  for  one  hundred 
and  seventeen  and  three  quarters." 

"  I  've  no  doubt  I  might,"  replied  Corona, 
looking  as  intelligent  as  possible,  and  trying 
valiantly  not  to  laugh  at  the  expression  of 
lady-like  vagueness,  not  unmingled  with  alarm, 
on  Mary's  face.  Mary  had  never  been  down 
State  Street  before.  Mr.  Sinuous  attended  to 
that.  "  But  I  have  a  fancy  to  hold  on  to  the 
New  Jerusalem  6s  for  a  while." 

"  In  view  of  a  rise  ?  "  asked  the  broker. 

"  Oh  !  no  ;  only  I  like  the  name." 

"  I  must  save  that,"  said  the  broker.  "  I 
must  tell  your  brother  that.  He  would  appre 
ciate  it  as  much  as  anybody  I  know.  Well, 
how  would  von  like  to  sell  —  Here  !  I  have 
it!  Haven't  von  some  stock  in  the  '1m- 


FEE-FI-FUM  AND  I.    0.    U.  87 

mediate  Alarm  Company  for  Waking  up  Ser 
vants  by  Electricity  '  ?  No  ?  I  thought  you 
had.  Hm-m-m.  Have  you  a  few  shares  of  the 
'  Every  Man  his  own  Correspondent '  ?  That 
concern  which  has  patented  a  type-writer  to 
answer  letters  without  dictation.  That  thing 
you  wind  up,  you  know,  and  let  it  alone  ;  and 
it  goes  off  and  replies  to  everybody  in  a  neat 
circular  adapted  to  the  case,  and  no  trouble  to 
you.  It 's  quite  an  invention.  It  is  n't  on  the 
market  yet ;  but  the  shares  have  gone  up  to 
four  hundred  already.  It  is  expected  to  revo 
lutionize  modern  society.  It  is  especially  con 
structed  with  reference  to  autograph-hunters, 
I  am  told,  and  people  asking  for  advice  and 
loans.  It 's  a  great  thing.  You  ought  to  have 


some." 


"  Let  me  see,"  added  the  broker,  after  a 
moment's  thought.  "  Don't  you  own  some 
of  theFee-Fi-Fum?" 

"  I  believe  I  do,  —  a  little  ;  I  'm  not  sure 
how  much.  I  shall  be  perfectly  willing  to 
part  with  that." 

«  The  Fee-Fi-Fum  and  the  I.  0.  U.  ?  " 

"  Yes.     I  'in  sure  I  have," 


88  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

"  The  Fee-Fi-Fum  and  the  I.  0.  U.,  leased 
by  the  X.  Y.  Z.  " 

"  Yes.  I  believe  it  is  leased  by  the  X. 
Y.  Z." 

"  There  we  have  it,"  said  the  broker. 
"You  had  l),-ttiT  sell  a  $500  bond  of  that. 
Have  you  a  ivronl  ?  " 

Yes,  she  had  a  record ;  she  produced  it. 

'•  Take  a  duplicate  copy,"  said  the  broker, 
"  iii  case  of  accident.  I  '11  read  it  off  to  you. 
I  '11  trouble  you  to  write  as  fast  as  you  can  : 
'  Registered  Bond,  No.  30,075  of  the  Fee-Fi- 
Fum  and  the  I.  O.  U.'  Got  that?  " 

Yes,  she  had  that. 

"  And  the  I.  0.  U.,  in  Dakota?" 

"  I  had  n't  anything  about  Dakota,"  inter 
rupted  Corona. 

"  That  is  an  important  point.  Add  *  in 
Dakota.'  You  must  distinguish,  you  know, 
from  the  I.  0.  U.  in  New  Mexico.  Those  are 
4s  and  mature  in  '88." 

"  Oh  !  yes  ;  so  I  must.     So  they  do,'' 
Corona,  with  her  keenest  State  Street  cxj  ; 
sion.     "I  see.     I  have  it  now.      I.  0.  U.  in 
Dakota.     Go  on." 


FEE-FI-FUM  AND  I.   0.    U.  89 

"  <  Leased  by  the  X.  Y.  Z.  and  Yankosell.' 
Have  you  got  the  '  X.  Y.  Z.  and  Yanko 
sell  '  ?  '  First  Mortgage  Land  Grant,  Non-Ex 
empt,  Redeemable  in  2009.  Interest  payable 
1st  January  at  Behring's  Strait.'  Have  you 
got  all  that  ?  '  Nine  and  three  tenths  per  cent/ 
That 's  all.  Now,  you  just  get  that  bond  out 
of  your  vaults  and  take  it  to  Jump  &  Jiggles 
in  Merchant's  Trapeze.  Jump  &  Jiggles  deal 
in  Fee-Fi-Fum  and  I.  0.  U.  more  than  I  do. 
They  '11  do  it  quicker  for  you.  You  must  get 
there  before  two  o'clock.  Take  a  bank  check, 
and  be  careful  of  it.  If  anything  happens 
you  don't  get  it  sold  to-day,  and  you  don't 
want  to  come  in  again  "  — 

"  The  entire  rolling  stock  of  the  Fee-Fi- 
Fum  Railroad  Company,"  observed  Corona, 
"  would  not  tempt  me  to  come  in  again  this 
summer." 

"  1  don't  blame  you,"  said  the  broker,  sadly. 
"  I  would  n't  if  I  were  you.  In  that  case,  your 
Fairharbor  bank  will  tell  you  how  to  dispose 
of  it  on  the  spot,  I  've  no  doubt.  The  Fee- 
Fi-Fuin  is  as  good  as  a  national  silver  bill. 


90  BURGLAR    /.V   I'AllAUISE. 

Almost  any  solid  business  man  in  Fairhurbor 
would  be  glad  to  take  it  off  your  hands.  The 
Fee-Fi-Fum  and  I.  0.  U.  is  n't  often  on  the 
market.  People  jump  at  it.  You  '11  have  no 
more  trouble  —  a  little  bond  like  this  —  than 
you  would  with  a  check.  It 's  registered, 
which  makes  it  perfectly  safe.  But  you  might 
as  well  sell  it  if  you  have  time.  Don't  carry 
the  cash  with  you.  Better  express  whatever 
you  carry, — if  you  know  your  expressman. 
It 's  safer  than  a  lady's  shopping-hag.  Can 
I  do  anything  more  for  you  ?  My  regards 
to  your  brother.  Good-morning.  I  hope 
your  horse  will  be  wort li  it.  Good-morning." 
As  luck  would  have  it,  by  the  time  the  la 
dies  had  stopped  for  Mary  to  get  some  iced 
soda,  and  to  match  some  tulle,  and  get  a 
paper  of  invisible  hair-pins,  and  attend  to 
a  few  other  of  those  imperious  errands  which 
have  to  be  done  when  one  comes  into  town 
from  seashore  in  July,  —  by  the  time  Corona 
had  obtained  her  Fee-Fi-Fum  and  I.  0.  U. 
bond  and  reached  the  office  of  Messrs.  Jump 
&  Jiggles  with  it,  the  clock  was  striking  two, 


FEE-FI-FUM  AND  I.    0.    U.  91 

and  Messrs.  Jump  &  Jiggles  had  gone.  At 
least,  Mr.  Jump  had  gone  ;  he  was  half-way 
to  the  Nahant  boat.  Mr.  Jiggles  was  just 
closing  the  door,  fanning  himself  with  his  hat 
as  he  did  so,  in  the  blasphemous  kind  of  way 
in  which  men  do  use  a  fan,  as  if  it  were  a 
cultivated  substitute  for  a  wicked  word.  But 
Mr.  Jiggles  said  that  they  never  did  business 
(in  July)  after  the  clock  struck. 

So  Corona  (remembering  the  good  broker's 
advice)  decided  to  send  her  registered  bond 
home  by  the  expressman.  It  was  the  same  ex 
pressman  who  had  brought  Matthew  Launce- 
lot  to  her  house  when  Tom  first  presented 
him  to  her,  and  before  the  dog  ran  away  and 
was  bought  over  again  by  Mary,  and  given 
to  his  mistress  the  second  time,  —  which  Mary 
has  never  known  to  this  day.  So  Corona 
naturally  felt  that  she  could  trust  the  express 
man  ;  he  seemed  intimately  bound  up  in  her 
family  history.  The  expressman  therefore 
took  her  bond  and  promised  to  deliver  it  that 
evening ;  and  the  ladies  took  the  next  train 
home  with  fervent  speed. 


92  BURGLARS  IN  PAIiAUlSE. 

As  they  came  in  sight  of  the  cottage,  full 
into  the  force  of  the  live  east  wind,  which 
hroke  against  their  scarlet,  dusty  faces  as  if 
it  had  been  a  great  wave  itself,  all  the  blazing 
city  seemed  to  recede  from  their  consciousness 
like  a  dream  of  a  vast  conflagration. 

"  I  am  becoming  a  native,"  said  Corona. 
"  I  flop  back  to  this  coast  like  a  Cape  Ann 
fish  into  the  sea.  Do  you  suppose  that  broker 
is  sizzling  there  yet  ?  " 

"It  has  been  a  little  —  warm,"  a-sented 
Mary,  in  her  ladylike  way.  She  felt  that  Co 
rona  overstated  things. 

Oh  !  but  it  was  cool  in  Paradise  !  It  wa* 
heavenly  cool  in  Paradise.  All  the  brown 
blinds  were  drawn  ;  a  warm  and  mellow  gloom 
filled  the  gray  parlor  and  the  green  bedroom. 
The  old  muslin  curtains  stirred  delicately  at 
the  open  windows,  like  sails  in  a  slowly  mov 
ing  pleasure  boat.  The  flowers  and  fern^ 
about  the  house  seemed  grateful  for  the 
shade  and  water.  The  m<>d<  st  uphold  <-ry 
and  all  the  little,  simple  devices  of  this  plain 
home  were  in  cool  summer  tints,  and  met  one 
restfally. 


FEE-FI-FUM  AND   I.    O.    U.  93 

Matthew  Launcelot  was  asleep  (on  his  back, 
with  all  four  paws  in  the  air)  on  a  large,  em 
broidered  linen  towel,  which  he  had  dragged 
from  the  towel-rack  and  put  directly  in  the 
draught  on  the  straw  carpet  in  the  middle  of 
the  guest-room  floor.  He  looked  at  least 
cool.  Outside,  Zero  had  the  Lady  of  Shalott 
tied  to  the  clothes-post  in  the  east  wind  to 
feed  upon  the  short  cool  grass.  Puelvir,  in  a 
light  muslin  dress,  with  an  old-fashioned  green 
sprig  on  it,  sat  by  the  kitchen  window  with 
the  fire  out.  Comforted  by  her  cabbage,  she 
was  embroidering  a  linen  night-dress,  which 
she  kept  for  fancy  work  ;  she  said  she  wanted 
one  decent  night-gownd  to  die  in  ;  she  was 
always  in  good  spirits  when  she  was  working 
on  this  garment.  As  the  ladies,  fresh  from 
their  bath,  roamed  about  the  house  in  dainty 
deshabille,  they  could  hear  her  singing  as  she 
sang  before : 

"  Set  ye-e-ee  your  £re-a-as-ure  i-in  the 
skyes,  where  thie-ie-eeves  break  thro-ough, 
nor  "  — 

"  There  's  the  expressman  !  "  cried  Puelvir, 


94  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

interrupting  herself  at  this  point.  "  He  's 
brought  a  yellow  package.  It  looks  like  an 
overgrowed  big  telegraph.  And  land  !  if  he 
ain't  got  my  peddler  sett  in'  alongside  of  him 
on  the  front  seat." 

"  Who,  pray,  is  your  peddler  ?  "  asked  h«-r 
mistress,  hurrying  down  to  receive  her  r 
istered    bond    with    an    agitation    \\hich    sin- 
ilattered   herself  passed  for  masterly  uncon 
cern. 

"  Oh  !  just  a  peddler  come  peddlin'  to 
day,"  replied  Puelvir.  "  He  peddled  a  patent 
kind  of  scented  soft  soap  to  save  a  girl  scrub- 
bin*  of  blankets  and  bed  quilts,  and  a  sort  of 
dog-food  he  wanted  me  to  buy  for  Matthew 
Launcelot.  He  was  a  very  gentlemanly  ped 
dler  ;  he  said  I  reminded  him  of  a  girl  he 
knew  that  died,  that  he  was  fond  of.  I  told 
him  that  mought  be,  but  you  was  n't  to  home, 
and  I  could  n't  have  nothin'  to  do  with  him 
in  your  absence.  He  was  sot  to  come  in  and 
get  a  drink  of  ice  water  "  — 

"  Mercy,  Puelvir  !  I  hope  you  did  n't  let 
him?" 


FEE-FI-FUM  AND  I.    0.    U.  95 

"  What  do  you  take  me  for,  Miss  Corona  ?  " 
said  Puelvir,  with  dignity.  "  He  sot  on  that 
there  coal-bin,  and  there,  I  says,  you  may  set. 
I  don't  receive  strange  gentlemen  when  she 
ain't  to  hum.  So  he  sot  on  the  coal-bin  and 
I  sot  on  the  steps,  and  the  dog  he  sot  between 
us,  and  he  raised  the  cannibal  islands.  I 
never  see  a  creetur  holler  in  my  born  days  as 
that  creetur  hollered  at  that  there  peddler. 
He  said  he  was  a  handsome  dog,  'n  Matthew 
up  'n  at  his  trousers  leg  'n  bit  a  piece  out,  — 
they  was  nice  trousers,  of  a  checkered  pattern, 
and  become  him  very  well,  —  and  then  he 
said  the  dog  was  a  dam  puppy,  and  then  he 
went  away.  He  said  he  was  tired,  and  was 
agoin'  to  get  somebody  to  give  him  a  lift  over 
to  the  city.  That 's  him.  The  expressman  's 
picked  him  up.  Yes,  it 's  him." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Corona,  coming  out,  with  an 
air  of  supernatural  lightness.  "  I  see  you 
have  brought  my  package  from  the  dye- 
house." 

"  What  'm  ?  "  said  the  expressman. 

"  My  package  from  the  dye-house,"  re 
peated  Corona,  severely. 


96  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

"  Oh  !  yes,  inarm,  yes  !  I  see.  I  Ve  got 
your  package  from  the  dye-house  all  right. 
In  a  hurry  for  it,  I  s'pose  ?  " 

The  expressman  winked  as  he  handed  orer 
the  Fee-Fi-Fum  bond  to  the  lady.  It  was 
ill-mannered,  not  to  say  dangerous,  in  the 
expressman  ;  but  he  did  wink  visibly.  The 
peddler,  sitting  beside  him,  did  not  notice 
this,  however ;  which  was  a  great  relief  to 
Corona.  The  long,  yellow  bond  envelope, 
sealed  and  resealed  with  the  great  money-de 
partment  seal  of  the  great  Adams  Express 
Company,  passed  from  the  hands  of  the  ex 
press-driver  to  the  hands  of  the  lady.  But 
the  peddler,  unfamiliar  with  such  matters,  re 
garded  it  idly.  If  the  seal  of  Lewando  or 
Barrett  thus  protected  a  dyed  ribbon  or  an 
old  piece  of  lace,  what  was  that  to  a  peddler 
of  dog-food  and  scented  soft  soap  ? 

He  asked  Corona  if  she  would  purchase 
any  soap  ;  but  said  it  was  of  no  consequence, 
when  she  declined.  He  said  his  dog-food  — 
But  after  this  he  said  no  more.  There  came 
a  soft  pattering  upon  the  nncarncted  floor,  an 


FEE-F1-FUM  AND  I.    0.    U.  97 

unceremonious  whisk  of  Puelvir's  petticoats, 
a  swift  glimpse  below  them  of  a  dark,  of 
fended,  black-and-tan  countenance,  framed  in 
white  and  green  sprigged  muslin  —  and  Mat 
thew  Launcelot  sprang,  with  one  terrible 
snarl,  upon  that  peddler  of  dog -food  and 
scented  soap.  Over  the  wheel,  into  the  wag 
on,  past  the  expressman,  upon  the  peddler, 
the  terrier,  in  a  lightning  photograph,  leaped 
convulsively.  The  expressman  laughed  and 
the  peddler  swore ;  but  Matthew  was  in  ear 
nest.  The  horses  started,  the  wagon  reeled 
over  the  big  bowlders,  and  rattled  violently 
away  —  but  Matthew  Launcelot  held  on. 

"  He  's  gone  out  of  sight  with  'em  !  "  cried 
Puelvir,  greatly  excited.  "  I  '11  bet  he  '11  fol- 
ler  that  peddler  to  prison,  or  the  gallows,  but 
he  '11  have  another  mouthful  of  them  checked 
pantaloons.  It 's  too  bad ;  for  they  did  be 
come  him." 

It  was  late  that  evening  when  Matthew 
Launcelot  returned.  He  seemed  tired  and 
sleepy.  He  brought  home  a  large  piece  of 
green  checked  pantaloon  cloth,  which  he  wor- 


98  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

ried  continually,  as  if  it  had  been  a  rat  that 
would  n't  die  ;  and,  finally,  hid  it  in  the  china- 
closet,  in  an  empty  Albert  biscuit  box  he 
knew  of.  He  tried  to  put  the  cover  on,  but 
he  was  too  sleepy. 

But  Corona  paid  no  attention  to  Matthew 
Launcelot.  She  and  Mary  sat  in  the  parlor, 
with  the  door  shut,  and  held  the  long  yellow 
envelope,  sealed  with  the  seal  of  the  Adams 
Express  Company. 

"  What  in  the  world  am  I  to  do  to-night," 
demanded  Corona,  "  with  this  Fee-Fi-Fum 
and  I.  0.  U.  Registered  Bond,  leased  by  the 
X.  Y.  Z.  and  Yankosell?" 


VI. 

THE    BURGLARY. 

IT  is  a  matter  of  familiar  observation  that 
great  truths  are  epidemic.  Discoveries  go  in 
the  atmosphere.  The  conditions  of  intellectual 
climate,  which  lead  the  human  mind  to  work 
in  a  given  direction  at  a  given  time  and  place, 
compel  the  other  human  mind  across  the  world 
or  across  the  village  to  the  same  intuition, 
inspiration,  or  deduction,  at  the  corresponding 
season.  While  the  ladies  in  the  parlor  were 
counting  out  their  money,  the  servants  in  the 
kitchen  of  the  Old  Maids'  Paradise,  if  not 
strictly  eating  bread  and  honey  (doughnuts, 
to  be  precise,  by  means  of  which  Puelvir  was 
in  the  habit  of  bribing  Zero  to  share  with  her 
the  burdens  of  domestic  life)  —  Puelvir  and 
Zero  were  conducting  the  following  dialogue. 

Zero  had  wandered  in,  with  something  on 


100  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

what  he  called  his  mind.  But  Zero  was  nat 
urally  reticent. 

"  Puelvir,"  he  said,  after  the  sixth  dough 
nut  had  lubricated  his  reserve,  "  where  does 
she  keep  her  money  ?  " 

"  Who  put  you  up  to  that  ?  "  asked  Puelvir, 
dropping  a  goblet,  and  giving  the  boy  a  look 
which  would  have  done  justice  to  Matthew 
Launcelot  when  he  saw  the  peddler. 

"  I  heerd  some  boys  up-street  sayin'  she 
must  have  a  sight.  They  asked  me  where  she 
kep'  it,"  replied  Zero,  in  his  listless,  honest, 
stupid  way. 

"  You  just  tell  'm,"  said  Puelvir,  "  she  ain't 
got  none.  Never  has  none.  She  's  poor,  Miss 
Corona  is,  only  she 's  too  proud  to  let  on.  You 
tell  'em  I  said  so." 

"  Yes,"  said  Zero,  gently.  "  I  '11  tell  'em 
you  said  so." 

"  She  keeps  all  her  money  in  New  York," 
added  Puelvir,  nonchalantly.  "  When  she  's 
got  a  bill  to  pay  she  has  just  enough  come 
<»:i  to  pay  that  bill,  and  pays  it  right  away 
before  supper.  She  has  it  come  by  ex 


THE  BURGLARY.  101 

It  comes  by  telephone.  All  her  money  comes 
by  special  arrangement  with  the  Telephone 
Company.  It 's  a  new  invention  they  have  ; 
her  brother,  he  got  'em  to  do  it  for  her.  They 
don't  do  it  for  anybody  else.  Why,  she 's 
so  hard  up  she  has  to  borry  of  me.  I  lent 
her  two  dollars  yesterday;  Miss  Mary's  the 
same.  She  had  to  get  fifty  cents  of  me  to  pay 
the  banana  man.  All  your  wages  and  mine 
come  by  telephone,  and  there  can't  nobody  get 
the  cash  of  'em  but  herself.  That 's  what  she 
bought  a  horse  for ;  to  go  over  to  get  'em,  she 
has  to  go  so  often.  You  just  tell  them  boys, 
now,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  Yee-es,"  drawled  Zero,  "  if  they  arx  me, 
I  '11  tell  'em.  I  thought  myself  she  must  keep 
as  much  as  twenty-six  or  seven  dollars  in  the 
house.  But  I  '11  tell  'em." 

But  Corona  and  Mary  in  the  parlor  were 
consulting  in  whispers.  The  bond  of  the  Fee- 
Fi-Fum  and  I.  0.  U.  lay  upon  Corona's  lap. 

Mary  suggested  that  they  telegraph  to  Mr. 
Thumb  to  come  over  and  get  it  that  night ; 
she  thought  it  would  be  such  a  relief.  But 


102  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

Corona  replied  that  Mr.  Thumb  lived  in  North 
East  Carriesquall,  and  that  the  telegraph  had 
not  reached  —  in  fact,  would  never  reach  — 
to  North  East  Carriesquall.  They  were  in  for 
it,  she  said,  and  must  harhor  that  bond  to 
night,  at  all  events.  Neither  of  the  ladies 
felt  any  fear  of  anything  happening  to  the 
bond,  unless,  as  Mary  said,  the  house  took  fire ; 
but  the  novelty  of  sleeping  in  the  house  with 
a  registered  bond  oppressed  them.  It  was  as 
if  they  had  too  much  company,  and  no  spare 
room. 

"  I  wish  I  *d  asked  the  broker  where  to 
put  it,"  observed  Corona.  "  He  might  have 
known." 

"  What  is  the  I.  0.  U.  ?  "  asked  Mary,  med 
itatively.  "  What  does  it  stand  for  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  confessed  Corona. 

"  And  what  is  Yankosell  ?  What  does  that 
mean?" 

"  I  did  know  that,"  said  Corona,  bright 
ening.  "  But  I  've  forgotten." 

"  Does  n't  anybody  know  ?  "  asked  Mary. 

"  I  never  heard  of  anybody  that  did,"  said 


THE  BURGLARY.  103 

Corona.  "  I  dare  say  the  Treasurer  does. 
I  '11  ask  Tom.  What  should  you  think  of 
putting  this  bond  in  the  parlor  stove-pipe  ?  " 

But  Mary  objected  that  there  might  be  a 
cold  northeast  storm  in  the  morning,  and  Puel- 
vir  might  light  a  fire.  Mary  suggested  taking  a 
few  nails  out  of  the  carpet  and  slipping  it  un 
der.  But  Corona  thought  that  had  been  tried 
too  often.  She  believed  the  house  always  did 
take  fire  when  that  was  done. 

They  discussed  the  question  of  hiding  it 
behind  the  books  in  the  library ;  but  Corona's 
sea-side  library  consisted  of  a  book-case  with 
two  shelves  and  a  top  that  held  the  dictionary. 
Corona  proposed  taking  the  bond  to  her  own 
bedroom ;  but  Mary  said  that  was  tempting 
Providence  to  commit  a  murder.  Mary  added 
that  she  thought  this  was  a  very  dangerous 
way  to  live  —  without  any  man  about ;  and 
that  she  had  had  a  letter  from  Mr.  Sinuous, 
saying  he  wanted  her  to  come  home  this  week. 

Corona  asked  if  it  seemed  to  be  any  easier 
living  without  a  woman  about.  But  Mary 
did  not  see  the  force  in  what  she  considered 
a  feeble  joke  cast  at  a  serious  matter. 


104  r.l  HGLARS  l.\   PARADISE. 

She  talked  a  great  deal  that  evening  about 
the  loneliness  of  Corona's  unprotected  life. 

"  Unprotected  fiddle-de-dee  !  "  said  Corona, 
with  more  spirit  than  politeness. 

After  much  conversation  and  contemplation, 
it  wjis  decided  how  to  dispose  of  theregisten  tl 
bond  of  the  Fee-Fi-Fum  and  I.  0.  U.,  for  that 
one  night ;  and  Mr.  Thumb  would  be  on  the 
spot  early  on  that  "  day  after  to-morrow  "  to 
•which  a  single  night's  repose  would  now 
swiftly  bring  this  excited  and  wearied  family. 
The  bond  was  put  into  a  drawer  in  Corona's 
desk,  which  stood  at  the  head  of  the  sofa  in 
the  parlor  —  a  natural  and  suitable  place, 
which  both  ladies  approved  of.  Corona  locked 
the  drawer  and  took  the  key,  and  said  they 
would  say  nothing  to  anybody  —  not  even  to 
Puelvir.  They  locked  up  the  house  with 
their  usual  fidelity  ;  perhaps  with  a  little  more 
than  that ;  but  nothing  was  done  about  clothes 
lines,  or  hose,  or  hot  water,  or  any  of  those 
modern  improvements  in  burglar  alarms,  be 
cause  that  would  involve  explaining  to  Puelvir 
that  they  were  sleeping  in  the  same  house 


THE  BURGLARY.  105 

with  a  $500  registered  bond.  They  were  all 
tired  and  went  early  to  bed. 

"  Where  is  Matthew  Launcelot  ?  "  asked 
Corona,  remembering  at  half-past  nine  that 
she  had  not  seen  the  dog  that  evening. 

"  I -don't  know  whether  he  's  dead  or  deef," 
said  Puelvir,  carelessly.  "  Or  mebbe  he 
mought  be  tired  wrastlin'  with  that  scented 
soft-soap  peddler  ;  but  I  can't  wake  the  critter 
nohow.  He  just  dropped  down  alongside  the 
Albert  biscuit  box  in  the  China  closet,  with 
one  of  his  paws  —  see  !  —  laid  acrosst  that 
piece  of  green-check  he  brought  home,  and 
there  he  lays.  He  's  ben  asleep  since  ever 
he  come  home.  I  tried  to  wake  him  to  put 
him  to  bed ;  b.ut  you  mought  as  well  set  out 
to  wake  Methuselah's  mother-in-law.  It  ain't 
no  moral  use." 

"  Poor  little  fellow !  "  said  Corona,  idly. 
"  He  does  seem  tired.  Let  him  sleep." 

But  Mary's  mind  continued  to  dwell  on  Co 
rona's  unprotected  situation.  Mary's  mind 
sometimes  worked  in  a  way  peculiar  to  herself. 
When  Corona  was  passing  into  her  first  cool 


106  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

dream,  at  the  close  of  that  warm  and  wor 
ried  day,  she  was  startled  by  hearing  her  door 
open  (it  was  not  locked),  and  Mary  glided  in, 
with  all  her  long,  bright  hair  down  over  her 
ruffled  and  embroidered  night-dress,  looking 
in  the  moonlight  (for  it  was  moonlight)  like 
a  lovely  etching  on  mellow  Japanese  paper. 

"  Corona,"  said  Mary,  "  I  just  came  in  to 
ask  a  question.  What  has  ever  become 
of-  -?" 

She  mentioned  a  name  at  which  Corona's 
placid,  healthy  heart  gave  one  bound,  and  then 
stood  still. 

"  He  's  out  West  somewhere,  I  believe,"  she 
answered,  with  magnificent  carelessness. 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Mary.  "  I  did  n't  know  but 
you  'd  kept  that  up,  somehow,  and  not  cared 
to  talk  about  it." 

"  I  don't  know  what  has  become  of  him, 
I  'm  sure,"  replied  Corona.  "  I  did  not  think 
it  best  to  keep  anything  up." 

"  I  always  thought  you  made  a  mistake, 
dear,"  said  Mary,  stooping  to  kiss  her  in  the 
faint  light.  Her  pretty  hair  fell  over  Corona's 


THE  BURGLARY.  107 

face,  as  she  stooped.  "  I  hoped  you  had  n't 
cut  everything  entirely  off." 

"  Atropos  cuts,"  said  Corona,  laughing  — 
as  women  laugh  when  they  would  n't  cry  for 
the  world  and  all  that  is  therein.  "  All  we 
do  is  to  look  on.  Don't  get  to  thinking 
about  my  old  flirtations,  Mollie,  at  this  time  of 
night.  There  !  Go  back  to  bed,  you  pretty 
creature,  and  go  to  sleep." 

So  Mary  did  ;  but  Corona  lay  long  awake  ; 
too  long  ;  so  long  that  she  was  quite  spent 
at  last,  from  sleeplessness  and  for  other  rea 
sons,  and  slept,  when  she  slept,  almost  as 
heavily  as  Matthew  Launcelot  down  below 
there,  prone  by  the  Albert  biscuit  box,  with 
one  paw  across  the  green-checked  mouthful 
of  the  peddler's  pantaloons. 

They  had  a  late  breakfast  next  morning, 
and  the  little  family  collected  leisurely.  Mary 
and  Puelvir  were  in  excellent  spirits  ;  but  Co 
rona  felt  tired,  and  Matthew  Launcelot  was  de 
pressed  and  non-committal.  He  still  slept  a 
good  deal,  and  treated  his  breakfast  of  mack 
erel  and  griddle-cakes  with  an  ill-concealed 
contempt. 


108  BURGLAHS  IN  PARADISE. 

The  ladies  were  still  at  the  breakfast-table 
talking  lazily ;  Corona  had  sent  word  to  Zero 
to  have  the  Lady  of  Shalott  brought  round  to 
the  clothes-post  at  ten  o'clock  ;  Mary  had  said 
that  she  believed  she  must  go  home  before 
Sunday.  She  had  just  asked  what  time  Mr. 
Thumb  was  coming  for  his  ready  money,  when 
Puelvir  flung  open  the  kitchen  door  without 
ceremony,  and  rushed  into  the  dining-room. 

"  Land,  land,  land,  land  !  "  cried  Puelvir. 
"  Somebodv  's  broke  in  !  " 

•/ 

"  Broken  in  where  ?  "  asked  her  mistress, 
without  interest.  Puelvir's  burglars  were  be 
coming  an  old  story. 

"  Broke  in  here !  That  there  two-foot 
winder  is  smashed  in.  I  never  see  it  till  this 
minute ;  and  one  of  my  squash-pies  is  ate, 
and  some  tomayto  sauce.  There  's  been  bur 
glars  in  this  house,  this  livin'  night,  as  I  say 
these  words,  or  I  'm  a  widder  with  five,  and 
left  with  a  property  !  " 

Corona  and  Mary  looked  at  each  oilier. 
Corona  turned  pale,  but  she  commanded  hri- 
self .  She  felt  in  a  confused  way  that  some 


THE  BURGLARY.  109 

one  must  command  somebody.  She  pushed 
back  her  chair  quietly,  went  into  her  little 
gray  parlor,  and  up  to  the  desk. 

Every  drawer  in  the  desk  but  one  was  taken 
out  and  overturned.  A  melange  of  letters 
and  grocers'  books  lay  upon  the  floor.  The 
drawer  which  had  not  been  taken  out  was 
the  one  which  had  contained  the  $500  regis 
tered  bond.  It  was  quite  empty. 

The  first  thing  which  Corona  did  was  to 
call  Puelvir  —  the  only  creature  in  the  world 
on  whom  she  really  depended.  Instinct  went 
out  to  that  one  in  the  tension  of  emergency. 
She  briefly  explained  to  Puelvir  the  dreadful 
fact.  Puelvir  herself  turned  very  pale  ;  then 
the  color  came  and  came  in  waves  over  her 
gaunt,  high-cheeked,  homely  face. 

"  Miss  Corona,  if  you  'd  told  me,  I  'd  ha  set 
up  all  night  long  to  watch  your  property  ! 
And  you  KNOW  I  would  !  " 

But  Puelvir' s  rebuke  stopped  here,  for  that 
moment  and  for  all  time.  She  felt  that  her 
mistress  had  been  punished  enough. 

The  three  women  shut  and  locked  the  doors 


110  BURGLARS  IN   PARADISI-. 

and  searched  the  house ;  but  the  bond  was 
gone.  They  sifted  the  mass  of  papers  with  ter 
rible  conscientiousness ;  but  the  bond  was 
gone.  Puelvir  would  seize  on  something, 
and  say,  "  Ain't  this  it,  now  ?  "  and  Corona 
would  reply  that  that  was  last  year's  fish  bill. 
Mary  would  say  she  believed  she  had  found 
it,  and  Corona  would  say,  "  That  ?  t  Oh  ! 
that 's  nothing  but  an  offer  from  a  widower." 
Then  Mary  would  snatch  up  something  else 
and  say  this  must  be  it,  and  Corona  would 
admit  that  it  was  a  rejected  Sunday-school 
book  from  a  New  Orleans  firm.  Then  Puelvir 
would  declare  she  'd  got  it  now,  and  Co 
rona  would  shake  her  head  and  file  away  her 
fire-insurance  policy.  Once  Corona  thought 
she  had  found  the  bond  herself ;  but  it  proved 
to  be  Tom's  doctor's  bill  for  the  baby  from 
New  Year's  to  April  Fool's  Day.  The  values 
were  so  nearly  equivalent  that  the  mistake 
was  natural.  But  the  bond  was  gone.  They 
looked  up  the  stove-pipe  ;  they  ripped  the  car 
pets  ;  they  took  every  book  out  of  the  book 
case  (this  was  Mary's  idea) ;  but  the  bond  was 


THE   BURGLARY.  Ill 

gone.  They  examined  the  pantry,  and  the 
two-foot  window,  the  squash-pie  plate,  and  the 
tomato  dish.  But  the  bond  was  gone.  A  red 
lead  pencil  and  a  piece  of  tobacco  lay  upon 
the  woodpile.  These  were  the  only  traces  left 
by  the  burglar.  The  front  door  was  found 
unlocked.  The  intruder  had  entered  by  the 
wood-shed  window,  helped  himself  to  the  con 
tents  of  the  larder,  wandered  freely  about  the 
lower  story  of  the  cottage,  passed  safely  by 
Matthew  Launcelot,  who  had  offered  no  per 
sonal  objections  — 

"  Where  is  that  dog,  now  ?  "  asked  Corona, 
in  a  voice  destitute  of  affection. 

"  Layin'  on  your  white  muslin  wrapper  — 
the  one  I  j  ust  done  up  —  in  your  bed-room, 
sleepin'  like  a  cherubim  on  a  monyment,"  said 
Puelvir.  "  He  's  slep  like  the  sperits  of  the 
just  made  perfect  ever  since  I  shooed  him 
out  the  china  closet  come  breakfast  time." 

The  burglar,  it  seemed,  having  passed  by 
this  dangerous  animal  without  peril,  had  leis 
urely  rummaged  the  contents  of  the  table- 
drawers  —  (Corona  was  convinced  that  he  had 


112  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

read  the  widower's  love-letter  by  the  circum 
stantial  evidence  of  a  little  whiff  of  ci^ar 
ashes  which  tumbled  out  as  she  picked  it 
up)  —  he  had  helped  himself  to  the  $500 
bond,  comfortably  let  himself  out  of  the  front 
door;  and  that  was  all. 

"  Did  you  lock  the  drawer  ?  "  asked  Mary. 

"  Why,  yes.  Don't  you  remember  ?  Here 
is  the  key  in  my  pocket." 

"  Did  you  lock  the  upper  drawer  ?  "  asked 
Puelvir. 

"  I  never  thought  of  the  upper  drawer ! " 
wailed  Corona. 

"  And  he  just  pulled  it  out,  and  tucked  his 
hand  into  the  one  below,  and  took  that  there 
money  out,  and  no  trouble  to  nobody !  He 
war  n't  even  put  to  the  onconvenience  of 
breakin  a  lock  to  git  it !  " 

"  Exactly  so.  That  is  just  what  he  did," 
assented  Corona. 

She  laughed.  The  thing  struck  her  so  that 
she  could  n't  have  helped  it,  if  it  had  cost 
her  all  she  owned.  She  rolled  over  on  the 
sofa,  and  laughed  till  she  cried. 


THE  BURGLARY.  113 

"  She  always  takes  trouble  that  way,"  said 
Mary,  without  laughing.  "  Come  away,  Puel- 
vir,  and  let  us  consult  what  it  is  best  to  do. 
Don't  you  think  I  'd  better  telegraph  for  Mr. 
Sinuous  ?  " 

But  there  was  no  doubt  about  it.  The 
Old  Maid's  Paradise,  taken  by  a  thief  in  the 
night,  had  been  ingeniously  robbed ;  and 
that  Fee-Fi-Fum  and  I.  0.  U.  registered  bond, 
leased  by  the  X.  Y.  Z.  and  Yankosell,  was 
gone. 

At  this  moment  Puelvir  came  in  to  say  that 
the  new  horse  was  waiting  outside  for  some 
body  to  go  to  ride  with  him  ;  Zero  was  tryin' 
to  make  the  critter  eat  an  apple-tart  and  a 
piece  of  cold  tongue ;  and  that  Mr.  Thumb 
was  turnin'  in  the  gate,  come  for  his  ready 
money. 

•  ••••••• 

"Take  her  back,  if  you  want  to,  Mr. 
Thumb.  Take  the  Lady  Betty  back,  and 
keep  her  till  you  find  out  if  I  have  any  money 
to  pay  you.  You  may  feel  better  to  do  so." 

"  You  mean,  you  think  I  would  n't  trust 

8 


114  BURGLARS    I .\   1'Mi.MHXE. 

you  with  my  horse,  marm,  long  's  you  wanted 
to  keep  her  on  trial,  if  you  like  her  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no ;  we  would  n't  put  it  so.  But 
I  'm  bankrupt  to-day,  you  see.  I  can't  give 
you  your  ready  money,  as  I  said  I  would.  If 
I  should  never  recover  it,  I  don't  see  how 
I  'm  going  to  pay  for  the  horse  at  all.  I 
never  was  robbed  before.  I  cannot  form 
any  plans." 

"I  calc'lated,"  said  Mr.  Thumb,  after  a 
silence,  "I  calc'lated  to  leave  the  mare  jest 
where  she  is  till  you  send  her  back  to  North 
East  Carriesquall." 

"  Oh,  you  '11  recover  your  bonds,"  said  an 
unfamiliar  voice,  with  easy  assurance.  "  Of 
course  you  '11  recover  your  bond.  It 's  too 
thin  not  to  be  recovered." 

Corona  looked  up  in  alarm.  A  strange 
man  stood  in  the  parlor.  He  had  entered  by 
the  back  door,  strolled  through  the  kitchen 
and  the  dining-room  without  the  least  trace 
of  what  could  be  called  hesitation,  and  pushed 
his  way,  unannounced,  to  the  centre  of  that 


THE  BURGLARY.  115 

little  group  of  burgled  people.  As  he  spoke, 
he  took  an  easy  chair,  and  made  himself  at 
home  without  the  superfluity  of  an  invitation. 
After  some  thought,  he  removed  his  hat,  with 
the  reluctance  of  a  man  who  is  not  habitu 
ally  placed  where  he  feels  obliged  to  do  so, 
and  glanced  agreeably  around  him. 

"  Really,"  began  Corona,  "  I  have  n't  the 
pleasure  "  — 

But  Puelvir  was  before  her.  Puelvir  made 
one  bound  across  the  room,  gripped  the 
stranger  with  both  her  powerful  hands,  and 
before  the  ferocity  of  her  intentions  occurred 
to  anybody,  shook  the  man  (and  he  was  a 
big  man,  too)  till  his  teeth  chattered  in  his 
head  and  his  eyes  glared  from  their  sockets. 

"  Be  you  the  feller  ?  "  she  demanded. 
"  Be  you  the  burglar  that  burgled  this  here 
house?" 

"  Why,  my  dear  young  woman  "  —  gasped 
the  stranger. 

"  I  'm  not  your  dear  young  woman  !  "  re 
torted  Puelvir,  virtuously.  "P  ain't  nobody's 
dear  young  woman.  Never  w.as.  Never  will 
be.  Be  you  the  burg —  " 


116  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

"  Look  a  here,"  said  the  visitor,  releasing 
himself  with  a  practiced  thrust  which  sent 
Puelvir  sitting  down  hard  upon  the  rejected 
Sunday-school  book  and  the  widower's  love- 
letter,  "  I  am  the  Fairharbor  police." 


vn. 

ME.    PUSHETT. 

<e  OH  !  "  said  the  mistress  of  the  burgled 
cottage,  doubtfully,  to  the  Fairharbor  police 
man.  "  We  are  very  much  obliged  to  you. 
How  did  you  know  about  it  ?  " 

"  Know  about  it !  "  echoed  the  policeman. 
"  There  ain't  a  lobster  nor  a  stripped  mackerel 
in  the  city  don't  know  about  it  by  this  time. 
Know  about  it,  I  should  say  !  Why,  it  hap 
pened  as  much  as  an  hour  ago,  did  n't  it  ?  " 

"  It  is  just  about  an  hour  since  we  discov 
ered  our  loss,"  replied  Corona.  Already  she 
perceived  that  it  would  be  best  to  suppress 
surprise  at  anything  that  might  happen  now 
in  any  direction.  The  robbery  had  added  this 
contribution  to  her  stock  of  worldly  knowl 
edge  before  she  had  left  the  room  in  which  it 
occurred. 


118  BURGLARS  IN  PAR  ADI  si:. 

"  Now,"  began  the  policeman,  immediately, 
"  show  me  the  premises.  My  name,  by  the 
way,  is  Pushett." 

Corona  meekly  obeyed  Mr.  Pushett.  He 
was  a  very  tall  policeman,  and  he  kept  bump 
ing  his  head  against  the  low  ceilings  of  the 
Old  Maid's  Paradise,  whose  sheltered  walls 
had  never  known  a  guest  like  this  before. 
The  policeman  examined  the  two-foot  win 
dow  ;  he  pocketed  the  red  pencil  and  piece 
of  tobacco  ;  he  studied  the  squash-pie  plate 
with  a  professional  manner  for  a  long  time ; 
he  gave  close  attention  to  the  tomato  dish. 
He  remarked,  at  intervals,  that  she  would  cer 
tainly  recover  her  bond.  He  said  the  red 
pencil  was  a  very  important  clew.  He  said 
the  pie-plate  indicated  that  the  chap  had  a 
good  appetite,  and  was  fond  of  squash-pie ; 
he  said  these  were  both  excellent  clews.  He 
did  not  value  the  tobacco  so  highly,  because 
so  many  gentlemen  were  smokers.  He  rum 
maged  the  house  thoroughly,  up-stairs  and 
down.  In  reply  to  Corona's  protest  that  the 
burglar  had  n't  been  up-stairs,  he  asked  her 


MR.   PUSHETT.  119 

how  she  knew  ?  He  gave  special  attention 
to  the  spare  room,  pleasantly  stating  that  he 
thought  the  fellow  might  have  slept  there. 
He  criticised  the  defenses  of  the  doors  and 
windows,  as  being  arranged  by  women-folks, 
and  all  you  could  expect.  He  examined  the 
desk  and  the  heap  of  papers ;  he  seemed  in 
terested  in  the  widower's  love  -  letter,  and 
advised  Corona  to  put  her  insurance  policy  in 
a  safe  place. 

"  Didn't  lock  the  upper  drawers,  did  you  ?  " 
with  a  slow  grin.  "  Made  it  easy  as  you 
could  for  him,  did  n't  you  ?  " 

"  I  tried  to,"  observed  Corona,  with  some 
spirit. 

"  That 's  right.  They  most  always  do," 
replied  the  policeman.  "  One  man  I  knew 
took  'n  put  every  dollar  he  was  worth  in  a 
safe  in  his  house,  and  kept  it  there  a  year, 
and  he  had  n't  any  bolt  to  his  front  door,  and 
one  night  four  masked  men  just  took  a  nip 
per  and  some  crow-bars  and  turned  the  key 
as  easy  as  you  'd  take  a  cork  out  of  a  homoe 
opathy  bottle,  and  took  that  safe  out  on  the 


120  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

crow-bar  and  carried  it  into  an  empty  lot 
and  blew  it  open,  and  made  off  with  cvi TV 
cent  there  was  in  it,  and  nobody  the  wiser  till 
inoniin'." 

"  I  hope  the  poor  man  recovered  his  prop 
erty?  "said  Corona,  eagerly,  with  that  sud 
den  widening  of  the  sympathy  which  conn-s 
from  experience. 

"  Well,  n-no,"  admitted  Mr.  Push«-tt.  "I 
can't  say  he  did  recover  anything  —  in  that 
case.  I  believe  it  has  never  been  found." 

"  Nor  the  burglars,  either  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  Nor  the  burglars  either.  In 
that  case." 

Corona  asked  the  policeman  why  he  felt  so 
confident  that  the  property  would  be  recov 
ered  in  her  case.  Oh  !  this,  he  said,  was  a 
very  simple  affair.  This  was  altogether  too 
thin.  All  he  'd  ask  was  one  good  clew,  and 
he  would  undertake  to  see  the  property  back 
inside  of  a  month.  This  was  very  encour 
ing.  And  Corona  and  Mary  thought  Mr. 
Pushett  quite  an  agreeable  policeman. 

"  I  thought  you  said  the  tomayto  dish  was 
a  clew,"  sniffed  Puelvir. 


MR.   PUSHETT.  121 

"  It  was  the  squash-pie  plate,"  corrected 
the  policeman,  with  majesty.  He  and  Puel- 
vir  did  not  get  on  at  all.  "  I  referred  to  the 
pie-plate.  It  is  an  excellent  clew  so  far  as  it 
goes.  It  would  be  well  to  have  something 
more  —  as  you  might  say  —  more  illumina 
tive.  But  these  are  professional  matters,  and 
not  easy  to  explain.  Now,  Madam,"  said  Mr. 
Pushett,  waving  Puelvir  out  of  the  subject, 
and  producing  his  note-book  and  pencil,  with 
an  air  of  scholarly  absorption.  "  I  want  the 
details  of  this  case,  if  you  please  ;  all  of  'em. 
Name  of  the  bond  ?  " 

"  Fee-Fi-Fum  and  I.  0.  U.,"  replied  Co 
rona,  promptly.  She  knew  it  by  heart, 
now,  — 

"  Past  all  doubting,  truly, 
A  knowledge  greater  than  loss  could  dim." 

"  The  Fee-Fi-Fum  and  I.  0.  U.  $500  bond. 
Registered.  Leased  by  the  X.  Y.  Z.  and 
Yanko "  - 

"  Hold  on  a  minute.  That  seems  to  be  a 
fourteen-barreled  bond.  4  Yanko  ' 

"  Sell ;  X.  Y.  Z.  and  Yankosell.     In  Da- 


l'2'2  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

kota.  Be  sure  you  write  in  Dakota.  It  's 
important  to  distinguish  from  the  Yankosell 
in  New  Mexico,  which  are  fours,  and  mature 
in  '88." 

"  Did  I  understand  you  this  bond  matures 
in '88?" 

"  Oh,  no !  It 's  the  New  Mexico  bond  that 
matures  in  '88.  It 's  a  very  important  point." 

"  I  don't  see  what  that  has  to  do  with  your 
Fee-Fi-Fum,"  objected  Mr.  Pushett. 

"  Neither  do  I,"  said  Corona,  helplessly. 
"  I  never  did.  But  the  broker  told  me  it  was 
very  important.  I  think  you  'd  better  put  it 
down."  So  Mr.  Pushett  put  it  down. 

"  Mature  in  '88.  Is  that  all  ?  No  ?  Fire 
away,  then.  We  have  n't  any  time  to  lose. 
A  burglar  might  get  to  Canada  by  the  time 
a  man  got  this  bond  recorded.  No.  30,075. 
Land  Grant.  First  Mortgage.  Non-Exempt. 
Redeemable  in  2000.  I 've  got  so  far.  2009. 
Interest  collected  1st  January,  at  Behring's 
Strait.  Nine  and  three-tenths  per  cent. 
There.  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  's  all  ? 
Discourages  me  a  little.  Any  fellow  who  's 


MR.   PUSPIETT.  123 

had  the  luck  to  get  such  a  bond  as  that  is 
likely  to  be  overtaken  by  old  age  or  the  gal 
lows  before  he  can  read  it.  Now  then,"  pro 
ceeded  Mr.  Pushett,  "  allow  me  to  ask  you 
a  few  necessary  professional  questions.  I  '11 
make  'em  few  as  possible.  Where  did  you 
ladies  sleep  last  night  ?  Sleep  well  ?  Apt  to 
sleep  well  ?  What  kept  you  awake  ?  What 
did  you  eat  for  supper  ?  Callers  in  the  even 
ing  ?  Who  was  they  ?  What  was  the  ther 
mometer  on  the  piazza  ?  What  in  your 
room  ?  Was  the  clock  wound  up  ?  Had  you 
read  the  evening  paper  ?  What  train  did 
you  take  from  Boston  ?  How  many  times 
have  you  been  to  Boston  this  summer  ?  Are 
you  taxed  in  Fairharbor  ?  Are  you  on  the 
voting  list?  What  was  the  price  agreed  upon 
for  your  house  ?  What  are  your  views  on 
Prohibition  ?  Are  you  a  woman  suffragist  ? 
Why  did  you  send  your  bond  home  by  ex 
press  ?  Which  express  ?  Driver  alone  ? 
Who  was  with  him  ?  Did  you  do  much 
shopping  in  Boston  ?  Who  's  your  broker  ? 
Where  's  your  brother  ?  If  you  'd  voted  at 


124  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

the  last  Presidential  election,  should  you  have 
been  a  Mugwump  ?  What  is  your  receipt  for 
sponge  cake  ?  Did  you  notice  which  way 
the  wind  blew  last  night  ?  Lost  a  paper  of 
tacks  in  the  last  local  robbery  ?  Easily 
scared  ?  Keep  fire  arms  ?  Many  gentlemen 
callers  at  your  place  ?  Ain't  keeping  com 
pany  with  anybody,  are  you  ?  Do  you  own 
a  dog?" 

This  last  question  brought  Matthew  Laun- 
celot  to  the  foreground.  Puelvir  carried  him 
into  the  parlor  in  her  arms.  Matthew  exhib 
ited  little  interest  in  the  family  misfortunes. 
He  was  still  disgracefully  sleepy.  Puelvir 
stood  him  up  on  all  fours,  and  the  dc>^ 
winked  and  blinked  at  the  policeman  and 
toppled  over  and  sat  down  gaping.  He  pre 
sented  at  that  moment  as  few  of  the  points  of 
a  reliable  family  watch-dog  as  any  reasonable 
mind  could  demand. 

"  Tan  terrier,  too,"  mused  the  policeman, 
"  and  good  breed.  What 's  that  the  dog  's 
worryin'  between  his  paws  ?  " 

Puelvir  hastened  to  explain  that  it  was  a 


MR.  PUSHETT.  125 

piece  of  the  pantaloons  of  the  peddler  of  the 
dog-food  and  scented  soft  soap.  She  told  the 
story  from  her  point  of  view,  with  comments 
and  addenda  ;  but  she  told  the  story.  The 
policeman  asked  a  question  or  two  ;  mused 
for  a  moment  or  two  ;  then  across  his  coun 
tenance  there  passed  a  sudden  professional 
glow.  He  stooped  over  Matthew  Launcelot 
seductively,  and  tried  to  take  away  from  him 
the  green-checked  mouthful  of  woolen  cloth. 
But  Matthew's  jaws,  with  a  dogged  snarl, 
closed  upon  the  fingers  of  the  defender  of 
the  laws.  They  closed  quickly  and  they 
closed  hard.  Matthew's  jaws  could  shut  like 
a  patent  self-closing  safety-vault  door.  The 
policeman  withdrew  his  fingers  with  a  mut 
tered  exclamation  :  — 

"Ma  —  dam!"  he  hesitated  just  a   little 
between  the  svllables  while  he  tied  his  hand- 

•/ 

kerchief  about  his  bleeding  hand.  "  You 
have  an  excellent  dog  there.  He  's  got  your 
clew.  He  has  been  drugged,  tremendously 
drugged  ;  dog-food,  I  should  say  !  I  am  sur 
prised  he  is  alive.  The  peddler  was  the  thief. 


126  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

Soft  soap,  he  said,  did  he  ?  The  peddler  is 
the  burglar,  and  that  piece  of  pantaloon  stuil 
will  track  him  down  anywhere  in  North 
America.  Take  care  of  your  dog.  He  will 
be  needed  as  a  witness.  It  is  a  very  neat 
case.  You  will  certainly  recover  your  prop 
erty.  I  advise  you  to  have  some  circulars 
printed  immediately.  It  won't  cost  you 
much.  Better  have  five  hundred.  We  '11 
distribute  for  you.  I  'd  offer  a  pretty  tol 
erable  reward,  if  I  was  you.  I  '11  keep  the 
red  pencil.  I  '11  thank  you  for  that  pie-plate ; 
it  had  better  be  kept  at  the  office.  If  any 
of  you  ladies  can  separate  that  dog  and  the 
peddler's  remains,  I  '11  thank  you  for  tlint. 
We  have  an  admirable  chain  of  clews.  Good 
morning." 

As  soon  as  the  policeman  had  gone,  Corona 
said  she  would  act  upon  his  advice,  and  im 
mediately  get  the  circulars  printed,  which 
were  not  to  cost  anything,  and  which  would 
offer  a  tolerable  reward.  So  she  ordered  the 
Lady  of  Shalott  (with  Tom's  buggy  and  the 
second  harness),  to  drive  over  to  the  printer's. 


MR.  PUSHETT.  127 

She  said  what  a  comfort  it  was  to  own  a 
horse,  and  Zero  appeared  at  that  moment  at 
the  front  door,  with  his  hat  on,  to  say  that 
the  mare  had  lost  a  shoe  off  her  sou'  by  sou'- 
west  hind  foot,  and  all  the  rest  was  loose, 
and  she  'd  got  to  go  to  the  blacksmith's. 
Zero  thought  it  would  take  two  hours,  and 
that  the  best  way  would  be  for  him  to  ride 
her  over. 

"  I  bet  nobody  '11  burgle  this  house  to 
night,"  saidPuelvir,  grimly,  when  her  mistress 
and  the  Lady  of  Shalott  returned  from  the 
printer's  at  six  o'clock  that  evening.  "  I  've 
bought  a  pound  more  of  long  shingle  nails. 
I  've  druv  one  in  most  everywhere  a  nail  could 
be  drove.  I  've  got  my  fire  up  and  three  ket 
tles  bilin',  and  my  hose  on,  and  a  row  of 
empty  buckets  setting  alongside  my  bed.  I  'm 
ready  for  'em." 

In  vain  Corona  protested  that  of  all  nights 
in  a  lifetime  this  was  the  safest  night  in  the 
Old  Maid's  Paradise  ;  that  she  would  leave 
the  doors  open  to-night,  and  all  the  windows, 
without  a  tremor  ;  that  no  family  on  the  face 


128  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISIC. 

of  the  earth  was  safer  than  the  family  that 
had  just  been  robbed.  Puelvir  was  firm.  She 
was  almost  frightened.  Mary  was  altogether 
so.  Mary  begged  so  hard  for  a  man  to  sleep 
in  the  house  that  Corona  scornfully  yielded 
the  point ;  and  old  Father  Morrison  was  to\\v.l 
in,  and  tucked  away  on  a  sofa  lied  in  tin-  par 
lor,  where  he  snored  all  night  till  Paradise 
shook,  and  Mary  said  if  she  lived  till  morn 
ing  she  would  go  home  to  her  husband,  and 
Corona  could  do  as  she  pleased. 

At  eleven  o'clock  that  night  there  did,  in 
deed,  an  event  occur  which  did  not  add  to 
the  calm  of  the  occasion.  Some  one  knocked 
thunderously  at  the  back  door.  Mary  .shrieked. 
Corona  put  her  slippers  on.  Matthew  Lauuce- 
lot  uttered  a  debilitated  bark  and  sauntered 
out  to  the  door,  wagging  his  tail  hospitably. 
Father  Morrison  slept  through  the  disturb 
ance  quite  peacefully.  But  Puelvir  filled  all 
her  water-pails,  and  dashed  the  contents  of 
three  out  of  the  window,  without  looking  to 
see  if  they  hit. 

At  this  point  the  intruder  hastened  to  ex- 


MR.  PUSHETT.  129 

plain  that  it  was  only  Mr.  Pushett ;  and  if 
the  young  woman  and  the  dog  would  let 
him  alone  long  enough,  he  'd  like  to  see 
the  lady  of  the  house  on  very  important  busi 
ness. 

"  But  I  can't  let  you  in,"  said  Corona, 
when  she  had  hastened  to  the  back  door. 
"  Puelvir  has  put  so  many  shingle  nails  in 
this  door." 

"  I  don't  want  to  come  in,"  whispered  the 
policeman  through  the  key-hole.  "  I  want 
you  to  come  out." 

"  Want  me  to"  come  out  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  I  've  got  a  clew." 

"  But  I  can't  get  out !  "  objected  Corona. 
"  She  said  she  put  in  a  pound.  It  would  take 
me  all  night  to  draw  them  "  — 

"  Try  the  front  door,"  suggested  the  offi 
cer,  not  unnaturally. 

"  But  the  front  door  's  nailed,  too.  I  can't 
get  out  there,  either." 

"  I  've  heard  of  burglar-proof  houses,"  said 
the  policeman,  "  but  a  family-proof  house  I 
never  saw  before.  Calculate  to  stay  in,  do 


130  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

you  ?  Looks  like  it.  Do  you  think  you  could 
get  out  a  window  ?  " 

Corona  replied  that  the  lower  windows  were 
all  nailed,  too.  She  suggested,  however,  that 
she  might  climb  over  the  piazza  if  she  had  a 
tall  step-ladder  ;  and  Mr.  Pushett  replied  that 
he  guessed  he  could  help  her ;  it  was  dark  ; 
and  she  'd  better  come.  He  added  that  he 
could  saw  through  the  house  anywhere  in 
twenty  minutes  and  let  her  out ;  but  he  was 
in  a  hurry. 

So  Corona  descended  by  the  step-ladder 
(she  was  a  pretty  good  climber),  and  the  offi 
cer  explained  that  he  wanted  her  to  ride  seven 
miles  with  him  and  see  a  man.  He  was  con 
fident  he  was  on  a  clew.  He  thought  he  had 
found  the  man.  But  he  wanted  her  to  iden 
tify,  before  he  arrested.  It  did  not  occur  to 
Corona  to  demur.  Anything  might  happen 
to  a  person  who  had  been  robbed  of  a  $500 
bond.  So  she  and  Mr.  Pushett  went  over  to 

• 

the  barn  and  got  the  Lady  of  Shalott,  and 
drove  away  in  the  dark  ;  for  the  moon  was 
under  a  thunder-cloud.  She  noticed,  as  they 


MR.  PUSHETT.  131 

rode  along,  that  the  policeman  dripped  a  good 
deal,  and  he  explained  that  one  of  that  young 
woman's  water-buckets  had  hit  him  a  little ; 
he  said  she  was  rather  too  spirited  a  young 
woman  for  his  taste. 

The  Lady  made  excellent  time,  and  took 
her  seven  miles  in  forty-five  minutes.  Co 
rona,  as  she  and  the  policeman  sped  over  the 
lonely  country,  felt  her  heart  warm  toward 
the  pretty  horse.  It  was  depressing  to  think 
that  she  might  never  be  able  to  pay  for  her. 
But  Mr.  Pushett  assured  her  that  he  had  as 
good  a  clew  as  he  ever  got  hold  of  in  his  pro 
fessional  life.  He  said  all  he  wanted  of  her 
was  to  look  in  a  window  at  some  fellows  play 
ing  cards. 

This  sounded  easy ;  but  Corona's  heart 
sank  a  little.  She  thought  of  what  Mary  said 
about  her  unprotected  life.  She  thought  of 
those  other  things  Mary  had  said  that  night 
when  she  came  in  looking  like  a  Japanese 
etching  in  the  moonlight.  But  the  police 
man's  shoulders  were  big,  and  Corona's  pluck 
was  bigger.  As  she  rode  along  on  her  un- 


132  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

usual  errand,  through  that  memorable  mid 
night,  she  reflected  that,  after  all,  if  she  had 
any  one  to  call  on  to  track  her  own  burglars 
for  her,  he  would  probably  be  a  very  busy 
person  ;  his  rest  would  be  more  important 
than  hers  ;  and  she  should  be  perfectly 
wretched  if  she  could  not  do  such  a  thing 
herself  and  save  him  the  trouble  ;  which, 
possibly,  she  might  not  be  allowed  to  do. 
This  consoled  her  so  much  that  she  was  in 
excellent  spirits  by  the  time  they  reached  the 
window  through  which  Mr.  Pushett  wanted 
her  to  look. 

"  You  did  n't  tell  me  it  was  a  grog-shop," 
said  Corona,  drawing  back  for  an  instant. 

"  I  '11  take  care  of  you,"  said  the  officer, 
curtly.  So  Corona  and  the  policeman  drew 
near  to  the  window  and  looked  in.  Four  men 
sat  at  a  table,  in  the  ill-favored  place,  gam 
bling  for  whiskey. 

"  There  !  "  whispered  the  officer,  breath 
lessly.  "  Ain't  that  the  feller  ?  That  peaked 
one,  with  the  yellow  goatee  ?  Ain't  that  the 
peddler  ?  Just  you  look  as  you  never  looked 
in  your  born  days.  Ain't  that  him  ?  " 


MR.  PUSHETT.  133 

"  I  never  saw  the  man  before  in  all  my 
life,"  whispered  Corona.  "  He  does  n't  look 
any  more  like  that  peddler  than  he  looks  like 
the  Episcopal  minister."  The  officer's  face 
fell  over  a  precipice  two  hundred  feet  sheer. 
Was  she  sure  ?  Take  her  oath  to  it  ?  She 
must  be  mistaken.  Would  she  take  the 
trouble  to  look  again  ?  The  clew  — 

At  this  moment  the  man  with  the  goatee 
arose  and  shuffled  to  the  outer  door.  He  was 
very  drunk.  The  officer  whisked  Corona  into 
the  buggy  by  one  swift  and  mighty  whisk ;  and 
they  were  driving  quite  leisurely  by,  when  the 
man  appeared  on  the  door-step.  He  sat  down 
stupidly  for  a  minute,  then  staggered  wretch 
edly  away ;  there  was  n't  much  of  him  even 
for  a  drunkard ;  he  was  a  poor,  sunken,  sod 
den  creature,  soul  and  body.  He  reeled  into 
a  miserable  home  near  by.  The  officer  drove 
up  softly  and  watched  him.  A  woman  in 
a  lank  dress  came  out  to  meet  the  drunkard ; 
she  held  a  smoky  kerosene-lamp  above  her 
head,  and  looked  at  him ;  a  sick  baby  lay 
upon  the  other  arm,  wailing  fretfully.  The 


134  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

woman  said,  "  Joshuay,  is  that  you  ?  "  She 
made  no  comment  upon  his  condition  ;  she 
was  too  used  to  it.  He  rolled  in,  and  fell 
over  against  her  and  down  upon  the  floor ; 
she  looked  at  him  apathetically,  and  then  she 
shut  the  door. 

"  There  is  something  wrong  about  this 
clew,"  said  Corona.  "  Take  me  home,  Mr. 
Pushett." 

And  Mr.  Pushett  meekly  took  her  home. 
He  was  so  disappointed  that  Corona  felt  quite 
sorry  for  him.  The  thunder-storm  had  come 
on,  and  it  rained  and  lightened  all  the  way 
home.  The  mare  was  a  good  deal  disturbed 
at  the  whole  adventure  —  the  matter  not  hav 
ing  been  fully  explained  to  her ;  but  she  be 
haved  like  a  Lady-as-she-Ought,  and  Corona 
reached  her  step-ladder  soaked  and  safe,  and 
climbed  back  to  bed,  as  much  impressed  with 
Mr.  Pushett's  energy  as  she  was  with  his  suc 
cess. 

In  the  morning  she  did  not  get  up  early, 
having  a  headache,  and  Puelvir  said  she  would 
send  her  breakfast  up  to  her.  Corona  no- 


MR.  PUSHETT.  135 

ticed  that  Puelvir  did  not  say  she  would  bring 
the  breakfast,  but  concluded  it  was  one  of 
Puelvir's  eccentricities.  Corona  was  lying 
half  asleep,  half  awake,  feeling  that  morn 
ing  a  little  unprotected,  after  all,  and  almost 
lonely,  —  for  Mary  had  gone  home  to  her 
husband,  as  she  said  she  should,  —  when  she 
was  startled  by  heavy  groping  foot-falls  and 
smothered  exclamations  that  seemed  to  be 
struggling  for  dear  life  with  the  breakfast- 
tray  up  the  narrow  and  unlighted  stairs.  Im 
mediately  a  big,  broad  fellow  loomed  into 
the  room,  smiling  like  a  sun-flower  across  the 
waiter,  on  which  he  had  upset  the  coffee  and 
overturned  the  butter-pat  into  the  berries  and 
cream,  and  straightway  took  her  into  his 
arms,  waiter,  pillow,  coffee,  and  all,  as  nobody 
else  in  the  world  — 

"  Why,  Tom  !     Why,  Tom  !  " 

"  Did  you  think  I  'd  leave  you  in  the 
lurch  ?"  asked  Tom,  sitting  down  on  the  foot 
of  the  bed  to  mop  up  a  few  little  trout-brooks 
of  coffee  that  were  rapidly  changing  the  to 
pography  of  the  bed-spread.  "  I  told  Puelvir 


136  BUliCLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

to  let  me  bring  your -breakfast  and  surprise 
you.  She  said  you  'd  take  me  for  a  burglar, 
and  shoot.  I  told  her  I  'd  risk  your  hitting 
anybody.  I  did  n't  think  I  should  spill  all 
the  coffee." 

"  But  I  thought  you  were  in  Canada  !  Not 
to  come  home  for  three  weeks.  This  is  three 
days.  You  —  you  —  you  dear  old  —  you  — 
Tom  !  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Tom,  carelessly  ;  "  I  was 
in  Canada.  But  I  had  an  errand  over  in 
Hoboken,  so  I  saw  it  in  the  papers." 

"The  papers?" 

"  Why,  certainly.  Every  newspaper  east 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains  is  ringing  with  it. 
They  say  there  were  five,  and  you  shot  two. 
They  say  you  lost  $100,000  in  Union  Pacific 
and  Bell  Telephone.  They  say  you  were 
wounded  in  the  lungs  and  hardly  expected 
to  live.  So  I  thought  if  it  was  so  bad  as 
that,  I  *d  better  stop  over  a  train.  I  took  the 
sleeper.  I  've  got  to  go  back  by  the  4  p.  M. 
express.  I  can  stay,  —  let  me  see,  —  I  can 
stay  two  hours  and  a  half." 


vni. 

THE    STATE    WILL    PROTECT. 

ALL  Fairharbor  was  at  her  bloom.  The 
summer  sun  made  mirrors  of  the  soft  'gray 
water ;  the  summer  people  started  on  the 
beach,  like  flowers  in  a  huge  parterre ;  the 
winds  were  laid,  or  low ;  the  moons  burned 
with  a  white  fire,  like  the  hearts  of  loving 
women,  and  repeated  themselves  in  the  waves, 
fair  and  unconscious,  as  love  reflects  itself  in 
deeds,  and  knows  not  that  it  does  so.  Pleas 
ure  boats,  with  colored  sails,  tinted  by  artists 
astray,  stole  by  upon  the  idle  flood  that  made 
a  merry  mock  at  them.  Voices  of  singers  on 
the  cliffs  or  on  the  water  melted  late  down 
the  silver  and  the  purple  evenings,  and  sung 
the  soul  to  sleep  with  the  power  of  old  songs. 
All  the  world  was  at  play,  or  adream.  Cares 
were  corked  like  the  Genius  in  the  bottle  in 


BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

the  Arabian  story  ;  anxieties  and  fears  waited 
as  the  frosts  wait,  biding  their  time  ;  but  it 
was  not  the  time  of  summer  in  Fairharbor. 
Sickness  cheated  itself  with  distraction.  Sor 
row  drugged  itself  with  the  sound  of  the  tides 
that  said  :  "  Thou  art  but  another  wave  in 
the  eternal  sea."  Hope  fed  itself  upon  the 
stir  of  pleasure-seeking  human  pulses;  youth 
tripfted  to  the  time  of  the  wave-notes,  and 
love  maddened  itself  with  beauty  ;  for  sum 
mer  was  on  Fairharbor. 

Hut  in  the  Old  Maid's  Paradise  these 
things  served  as  a  background  to  a  preoc 
cupied  family.  The  business  of  life  went  re 
morselessly  on.  Tom  had  crowded  so  much 
advice  and  affection  into  those  two  hours  and 
a  half  that  Corona  resumed  the  duties  of  her 
position  as  a  burgled  householder  with  ela 
tion.  Tom's  main  point  was  to  assure  her 
that  her  bond  was  so  certain  to  be  recovered 
that  the  only  thing  she  had  to  do  was  to  take 
his  check  to  Mr.  Thumb  and  pay  for  the 
Lady  of  Shalott,  who,  Tom  admitted,  was  as 
good  a  horse  as  he  could  have  bought  him- 


THE   STATE    WILL  PROTECT.          139 

self.  In  fact,  Tom  said  that  the  Lady  was 
worth  more  than  she  cost ;  which  was  a  grat 
ification  that  nobody  but  an  unprotected 
woman  horse-hunter  could  feel  to  the  full. 
Tom  assured  Corona  that  her  registration 
would  bring  back  her  bond  if  her  robber 
did  n't,  and  made  out  his  check  to  Mr. 
Thumb's  order  with  that  masculine  force  of 
will  which  makes  it  either  necessary  or  impos 
sible  for  a  woman  to  yield  a  point.  Corona's 
hesitation  was  put  by  in  a  burly  sort  of  way, 
as  if  it  were  a  thing  of  no  more  consequence 
than  a  crochet-needle  ;  and  before  she  knew 
exactly  what  had  happened,  or  why  it  hap 
pened  so,  the  Lady  of  Shalott  became  her 
own.  Tom  managed  so  well  in  this  matter 
that  it  was  months  after,  before  it  occurred 
to  Corona  to  wonder  whether  any  doubt  as  to 
the  ultimate  recovery  of  the  property  had 
ever  visited  his  mind. 

Tom  also  assured  her  that  she  ought  to 
print  some  circulars.  He  told  her  he  should 
print  a  thousand  if  he  were  she.  Everybody 
told  her  to  print  circulars ;  and,  as  she  fol- 


140  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

lowed  all  the  advice  she  received  at  that  time, 
she  was  fast  flooding  the  land  with  circulars. 
But  Tom  said  they  did  n't  cost  much.  Co 
rona  pictured  the  peddler  as  hiding  behind 
hay-stacks  and  other  points  of  rural  scenery 
to  read  the  < •imilurs. 

Tom  also  advised  her  immediately  to  put 
the  thing  in  the  hands  of  the  State's  District 
Police ;  he  observed  that  the  local  police 
might  do  very  well  by  local  affairs ;  and  gave 
vent  to  the  daring  inquiry :  How  did  we 
know  it  was  a  peddler?  Tom  added  that  if 
anything  more  occurred  to  him  he  would  tel 
egraph.  The  most  adorable  thing  about 
Tom  was  that  he  had  never  once  laughed  at 
her  for  not  locking  the  drawer  above  the 
drawer  that  held  the  bond.  Corona  could 
have  worshiped  him.  She  kissed  him  twice 
and  a  half,  when  she  drove  him  up  to  the 
moving  train,  on  the  last  platform  of  whose 
last  car  he  leaped  like  a  leopard  in  cheviot 
and  a  Derby,  to  return  to  Canada. 

When  Corona  and  the  Lady  of  Shalott 
came  back  from  the  station,  Corona  found 


THE   STATE    WILL   PROTECT.          141 

five  strange  men  sitting  in  the  Old  Maid's 
Paradise.  The  first  one  said  he  was  a  re 
porter  for  the  Boston  Sunday  "  Solar  Sys 
tem,"  and  would  be  obliged  to  her  for  some 
facts  about  the  burglary. 

Corona  excused  herself  from  the  other  four 
gentlemen,  and  took  the  Boston  Sunday 
"  Solar  System  "  into  the  dining-room,  and 
received  him  with  that  abject  helplessness 
characteristic  of  the  hitherto  uninterviewed 
American  citizen. 

The  next  gentleman  said  he  was  on  the 
staff  of  the  Tewksbury  "  Daily  Wild  Fire," 
and  he  had  called  for  a  few  details  of  what 
he  considered  the  most  blood-curdling  rob 
bery  of  the  day.  The  third  visitor  repre 
sented  the  New  York  "Billy;"  and  the 
fourth  said  he  did  the  religious  column  in  a 
denominational  weekly  ;  the  fifth  hoped  she 
would  consider  him  unobtrusive,  but  he  had 
called  for  material  for  her  biography,  which 
would  appear  in  to-morrow  morning's  issue 
of  the  Texas  "  Trapper."  Corona's  natural 
and  acquired  civility  served  her  very  well 


142  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

through  the  struggle  with  the  Boston  "  Solar 
System ;  "  but  the  supply  sank  as  she  ran 
the  blockade  of  the  others  ;  and  by  the 
time  she  had  come  down  to  the  Texan,  she 
had  relapsed  into  a  condition  of  aboriginal 
combativeness.  The  results,  as  she  afterward 
learned,  were  closely  proportional. 

The  Boston  Sunday  "  Solar  System  "  told 
a  thrilling  tale  of  midnight  horror,  headed  : 
"  A  YOUNG  LADY  DISPERSES  A  GANG  OP 
BURGLARS,"  in  which  she  figured  as  beauti 
ful,  rich,  brave,  and  twenty.  The  Tewksbury 
"  Wild  Fire  "  said  she  was  tanned.  The  New 
York  "  Billy  "  said  the  lady's  courage  in  the 
affair  had  been  overrated.  The  denomina 
tional  weekly  said  she  was  heterodox,  lint 
the  Texas  "  Trapper  "  reported  her  as  fifty- 
seven  years  of  age,  and  said  she  wore  no 
bangs. 

Corona's  next  step  led  her  to  the  Head 
quarters  of  the  State  Police  in  search  of  her 
property.  She  had  a  telegram  from  Tom  the 
morning  she  went,  dated  from  Toronto,  and 
running  :  — 


THE   STATE    WILL  PROTECT.          143 

"  DEAR  Sis,  —  Wish  I  could  do  the  whole 
job  for  you." 

Corona  telegraphed  back  :  — 

"  DEAR  BOY,  —  Have  my  hand  in,  and 
rather  like  it." 

The  Police  Inspectors  of  her  native  State 
received  the  lady  courteously.  She  had  never 
visited  such  a  place  before,  and  found  herself 
a  little  excited  by  the  abnormal  nature  of  her 
errand.  The  Inspectors  did  not  seem  excited 
at  all.  They  received  the  whole  affair  with  a 
calm  amounting  almost  to  what  she  felt  re 
sembled  a  lack  of  emotion  upon  the  subject 
of  her  loss. 

There  was  an  air  of  broad  unconcern  about 
the  State  Headquarters,  the  atmosphere  of 
people  so  blase  in  burglary  that  Corona  felt 
a  little  mortified  at  never  having  had  a  bur 
glary  before. 

"  I  have  come,"  she  said,  humbly,  "  to  put 
the  matter  in  your  hands." 

"  Oh,  certainly,"  replied  the  Inspector. 
"  We  will  take  charge  of  your  interests." 

"  It  is  a  small  sum,"  pleaded  Corona,  "  but 
larsre  to  me,  you  know." 


144  BURGLARS  IN  PARMHSK. 

"  Oh,  certainly,"  observed  the  Inspector. 
"  Naturally.  Quite  so." 

The  Inspector  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and 
drummed  upon  the  table  with  his  finger  tips ; 
he  played  the  long -forgotten  national  air 
which  concerned  itself  with  the  proposal  to 
hang  a  very  gentlemanly  sub-patriot  to  a  sour 
apple- tree. 

"  Can't  you  send  a  man  down  there  to  in 
spect  the  premises?"  asked  Corona,  \\licn 
she  had  told  the  story  in  detail.  "  I  under 
stand  the  State  is  expected  to  look  after  these 
tilings." 

"  Of  course,"  replied  the  officer,  loftily. 
"  The  State  will  protect." 

He  gave  this  in  the  tone  of  a  devout  man 
who  says,  The  Lord  will  provide. 

"  The  local  police  is  energetic,"  faltered 
the  lady,  "  and  he  keeps  thinking  he  has  a 
clew." 

The  Inspector  allowed  himself  a  cosmo 
politan  smile  ;  his  rather  slender,  unused  lin 
gers  ceased  to  consign  the  sub-patriot  to  the 
sour  apple-tree. 


THE   STATE   WILL  PROTECT.          145 

"  But  I  don't  feel  satisfied,"  continued 
Corona,  "  to  rest  on  that.  I  must  depend 
upon  the  State  to  do  all  that  is  possible  for 
the  recovery  of  my  property." 

"  To  be  sure,"  said  the  Inspector,  dream 
ily.  "  I  see.  Of  course.  I  should  think 
the  State  would.  I  would  if  I  was  the  State. 
I  —  would  you  excuse  me,  Madam  —  I  'm 
worn  out  to-day.  We  had  a  murder  at  the 
South  End  last  night,  and  I  was  up  quite 
late.  We  did  n't  find  the  murderer  —  in  that 
case ;  but  we  found  a  clew.  But  it  kept  me 
pretty  busy  for  a  few  hours,  and  —  would 
you  excuse  me  if  I  took  a  nap  ?  " 

"  Oh,  certainly,"  said  Corona.  "  Pray  do. 
You  must  be  tired." 

So  the  Inspector  leaned  back  in  his  chair, 
and  took  a  little  nap  ;  and  Corona  sat  and 
watched  him. 

When  the  Inspector  woke  up  he  seemed 
quite  brisk.  He  began  :  — 

"  Now,  Madam,  I  will  take  the  points  in 
this  case.     Give  them    slowly,  so  I  can    get 
them  all  into  my  head." 
10 


146  BURGLARS  IN  PAR  ADI. •<!•:. 

So  Corona  gave  the  points,  as  well  as  she 
could,  and  as  slowly. 

"  Your  local  police  is  on  the  wrong  trail," 
said  the  Inspector,  frowning,  when  she  had 
finished.  "  The  peddler  had  nothing  to  do 
with  it." 

u  Is  it  possible  ? "  cried  Corona.  "  But 
the  dog  "  - 

"  The  dog  was  drunk,"  said  the  Inspector. 
"  The  clew  is  in  an  entirely  different  direc 
tion.  Give  me  the  full  address  of  the  deaf 
boy  who  is  in  your  employ." 

"  Zero?  Mr.  Inspector,  that  is  impossi 
ble  !" 

"  All  things  arc  possible  to  the  Power  of 
the  State,"  answered  the  Inspector,  with  maj 
esty.  "  I  refer  to  the  boy  who  asked  how 
much  money  you  kept  in  the  house." 

"  But  you  mi^'lit  as  well  refer  to  my  guests 
or  my  cook,  in  such  a  connection,  as  to  that 
poor  little  deaf,  honest,  stupid  "  — 

"  It  is  not  impossible  that  I  mi^ht  have  to 
refer  to  your  guests  or  your  cook,"  returned 
the  Inspector.  "  Worse  things  have  hem. 


THE   STATE    WILL  PROTECT.          147 

A  clew  must  be  followed  wherever  it  leads, 
Madam,  like  life  or  death.  I  am  satisfied  I 
have  a  clew.  I  will  arrest  the  boy  to-night." 
"  You  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind !  "  cried 
Corona.  "  I  decline  to  prosecute.  I  decline 
to  have  anything  to  do  with  it.  I  prefer  to 
lose  my  money  to  outraging  my  neighbors 
by  a  course  so  devoid  of  the  first  principles 
of  common  intelligence." 

o 

"  Oh !  if  you  take  it  in  that  way,"  pro 
tested  the  Inspector,  "  I  really  must  have  an 
other  nap.  This  is  quite  exhausting." 

So  the  Inspector  took  another  nap.  When 
he  awoke  he  said  he  felt  better.  Corona 
said  she  was  glad  to  hear  it. 

"I  have  it !  "  cried  the  Inspector  suddenly, 
with  an  expression  almost  amounting  to 
animation  upon  his  peaceful  countenance. 
"  You  shoul^.  print  some  circulars  !  That 
will  certainly  recover  your  bond.  We  will 
try  to  assist  you,  of  course,  but  your  main 
dependence  is  on  your  circulars." 

Corona  urged  that  she  had  already  printed 
circulars ;  five  hundred  circulars  to  gratify 


148  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

Mr.  Pushett  ;  one  thousand  circulars  at  the 
advice  of  her  brother. 

u  \\'e  advise  you  to  print  fifteen  hundred 
circulars,"  said  the  Inspector.      "  They 


not  cost  you  anything  to  speak  of.  What  re 
ward  have  you  offered  ?  " 

Corona  hesitatingly  replied  that  she  had 
offered  two  hundred  dollars  reward. 

"  Make  it  three,"  said  the  Inspector. 

"  The  loss  is  only  five,"  suggested  Corona. 
But  she  made  it  three. 

"  When  do  you  think  I  shall  hear  from 
my  bond  ?  "  asked  Corona,  after  a  pause,  in 
which  the  Inspector  gave  so  many  symptoms 
of  going  to  sleep  again  that  she  felt  obliged, 
however  reluctantly,  to  bring  her  personal  in 
terests  once  more  to  the  notice  of  the  State. 
The  Inspector  roused  himself  and  said  :  — 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  ?  " 

Corona  repeated  her  inquiry,  and  the  In 
spector  said  it  was  a  very  natural  inquiry  ; 
he  said  he  wished  it  were  in  his  power  to  an 
swer  it  ;  he  said  they  would  certainly  remem 
ber  the  MM  :  he  said,  again,  that  the  State 


« 
THE   STATE    WILL   PROTECT.          149 

would  protect.  He  went  so  far  as  to  inti 
mate  that  this  was  what  the  State  was  for. 
This  encouraged  Corona  so  much  that  she 
bade  him  good  afternoon ;  she  could  not 
think  of  anything  more  to  say,  unless  she 
asked  him  once  again  whether  he  didn't 
think  he  could  send  a  man  down  to  examine 
the  premises  and  the  region  where  the  rob 
bery  was  committed ;  but  he  said  No,  he 
did  n't  think  he  could  ;  and  then  she  wished 
the  Inspector  pleasant  dreams,  and  he  thanked 
her,  and  said  he  usually  had  'em  j  and  then 
she  came  away. 

After  Corona  had  thus  thrown  herself 
upon  the  protection  of  the  State,  she  remem 
bered  that  Tom  had  advised  her  to  visit  the 
office  of  the  Fee-Fi-Fum  and  I.  0.  U.  Ac 
cordingly  she  did  so,  stating  her  errand  as 
inoffensively  as  possible.  The  Fee-Fi-Fum 
was  a  very  imposing  railroad.  There  was  a 
great  deal  of  marble  in  its  office.  There  was 
a  great  deal  more  of  majesty  in  its  clerks. 
Over- marble  and  majesty  Corona  pushed  her 
errand,  into  the  presence  of  the  Thirteenth 


150  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

Assistant  Vice-President,  a  gentlemanly  young 
man,  who  said  he  was  sorry  for  her.  Corona 
thanked  him,  but  said  that  she  had  come  to 
see  about  the  duplication  of  her  bond,  which, 
being  registered,  she  had  understood  was 
absolutely  protected  against  lire,  burglary, 
and  loss.  The  young  man  replied  that,  in 
a  sense,  this  was  true  ;  in  a  sense,  not.  Co 
rona  begged  to  inquire  in  which  sense  it  was 
not  true. 

"  We  do  not  duplicate,"  returned  the  gen 
tlemanly  young  man.  "  We  never  duplicate. 
Our  lawyer  objects." 

"  How,  then,  asked  the  bondholder,  am  I 
to  get  my  money  ?  " 

"  In  a  sense"  replied  the  young  man,  po 
litely,  "  you  don't  get  your  money.  Our  law 
yer  is  very  strict  about  it." 

"  Who  does  get  it,  if  I  don't?"  asked  the 
lady,  patiently.  "  The  Railroad  ?  " 

"Oh,  dear,  no!"  cried  the  younjj  man. 
"  Of  course  not.  I  can't  tell  you  exactly 
who  gets  it.  Our  lawyer  has  never  explained 
to  us." 


THE   STATE    WILL   PROTECT.          151 

"  But  the  burglar  cannot  get  it,  can  he  ?  " 
asked  Corona. 

"  Certainly  not,"  returned  the  Thirteenth 
Assistant  V ice-President,  brightening.  "  The 
burglar  cannot  get  it.  It  will  never  be  of  any 
use  to  the  burglar.  That  is  the  advantage  of 
registration." 

"  But  I  was  told,  when  I  bought  my  bond," 
urged  Corona,  "  that  registration  would  pro 
tect." 

"I  presume  you  were,"  said  the  young  man, 
courteously.  "  That  seems  to  be  the  prevail 
ing  impression." 

"  And,  of  course,  you  understand,"  he 
added,  "  that  we  will  pay  you  your  interest ; 
it  is  only  your  principal  which  you  do  not 
recover." 

"  That  is  something,  at  least."  The  bond 
holder  brightened. 

"But  you  must  first  sign  a  little  paper,  you 
know.  We  call  it  a  bond  of  indemnity  ;  just 
a  little  matter  of  form.  I  will  show  you  a 
copy.  Here  !  We  require  you  to  sign  this 
before  we  can  pay  you  anything.  Our  law 
yer  is  very  particular  about  it." 


10'J  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

Corona  read  the  bond  of  indemnity  over 
carefully,  once  —  twice.  She  laid  it  down 
and  rose  to  go.  All  the  marble  and  majesty 
li  id  passed  over  now  from  the  office  of  the 
Fee-Fi-Fum  and  I.  0.  U.  to  the  face  of  the 
bondholder. 

"  This  paper,"  said  the  bondholder,  "  re 
quires  me  to  expect  nothing  in  case  of  for- 


"  Certainly  not.     Our  lawyer  "  — 

"  In  case  of  forgery  by  the  lifting  of  fig 
ures  ;  by  the  erasion  of  names  with  the  use 
of  chemicals  ;  in  case,  I  observe,  of  your  own 
inadvertence  in  paying  my  property  over  to 
the  wrong  party  "  — 

"  Of  course,  madam.  We  could  not  be 
expected  to  guard  you  against  our  own  in 
advertence.  That  would  be  asking  a  great 
deal." 

"  This  paper  also  requires,"  continued  Co 
rona,  "  that  I  shall  protect  you  in  a  law-suit, 
if  any  such  be  brought  against  you,  by  an 
innocent  and  victimized  purchaser  of  the 
bond.  It  requires  me  to  subject  myself,  for 


THE   STATE    WILL  PROTECT.          153 

the  value  of  a  $500  bond,  to  indefinite  pecu 
niary  risks  —  call  it  $5,000,  say  —  some 
pleasant  morning  ?  Do  I  understand  it  cor 
rectly?" 

"  In  a  sense,"  said  the  officer  of  the  Fee- 
Fi-Fum,  "you  may  be  said  to  understand  it. 
It  is  a  simple  matter,  you  see.  You  sign 
the  paper.  We  pay  you  your  $93  interest, 
and  "  - 

"  I  do  not  sign  the  paper,"  said  Corona, 
laying  it  down  quietly.  The  officer  of  the 
Fee-Fi-Fum  looked  surprised,  even  grieved. 

"  You  will  excuse  me,"  repeated  the  lady, 
"  from  signing  your  paper.  May  I  ask,  be 
fore  I  bid  you  good-morning,  in  what  you 
consider  that  the  value  of  registration  does 
consist?" 

"  Why,  I  told  you,"  urged  the  Thirteenth 
Assistant  Vice-Presideut.  "  It  renders  the 
property  useless  to  the  burglar." 

"  And  protects  the  Railroad  ?  "  asked  Co 
rona. 

"  Certainly,  madam.  And  protects  the  Kail- 
road." 


154  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Corona.  "  I  under 
stand  now.  Those  are  the  main  points  in 
which  registration  is  of  interest  to  the  bond 
holder?" 

"  I  believe,"  said  the  Thirteenth  Assistant 
Vice-President,  "  those  are  the  main  points." 

On  her  way  to  the  station,  Corona  dropped 
in  at  Messrs.  Jump  &  Jiggles',  and  mentioned 
the  substance  of  her  interview  in  the  office  of 
the  Fee-Fi-Fum  and  I.  0.  U.  The  brokers 
were  quite  interested  in  the  matter.  Mr. 
Jump  said  the  Fee-Fi-Fum  had  the  sharpest 
lawyer  in  New  England.  Both  Mr.  Jump 
and  Mr.  Jiggles  told  the  bondholder  that  she 
had  done  just  right.  Mr.  Jiggles  went  so  far 
as  to  say  that  he  would  see  his  money  at  — 
Behring's  Strait  before  he  would  sign  that  sort 
of  a  bond  of  indemnity.  But  Mr.  Jiggles 
was  the  nervous  member  of  the  firm. 


rx. 

MESSRS.    HIDE    AND    SEEK. 

THE  summer  was  wearing  on.  But  that 
Registered  Bond  No.  30,075  had  not  been 
restored  to  Paradise.  Freshets  of  circulars 
poured  over  the  land.  The  reward  was  grad 
ually  increased  at  about  the  rate  of  a  dollar  a 
day.  Tom  telegraphed  exorbitantly  from  dif 
ferent  points  upon  the  map  of  North  America. 
Mr.  Pushett  called  at  the  cottage,  with  a  new 
clew,  from  twice  to  three  times  a  week. 
Messrs.  Jump  &  Jiggles  sent  a  copy  of  some 
advertisements  once  used  by  them  in  tracking 
down  a  heavy  theft  from  their  private  safe ; 
but  stated  that,  in  that  case,  the  money  was 
never  recovered.  The  Fee-Fi-Fum  wrote  to 
Corona  that  their  lawyer  would  be  happy  to 
explain  to  her  that  bond  of  indemnity.  From 
the  headquarters  of  the  State  Force  nothing 
was  received  but  a  bill  for  printing  circulars. 


156  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

It  was  in  August  that  Tom  telegraphed, 
one  pleasant  evening,  the  two  words,  "  J'r!- 
vate  Detective." 

While  Corona  sat  turning  this  message  over 
in  her  hand  and  in  her  mind,  another,  with 
winged  heels,  flew  fast  upon  it.  The  second 
said :  — 

"  But  be  careful  about  confounding  fel 
ony" 

"  I  don't  see  exactly  what  he  means,"  said 
Corona  to  Susy  ;  for  Susy  was  visiting  her 
just  then  with  the  baby." 

"  I  ahcays  know  what  he  means,"  said 
Susy.  "  Let  me  see  the  telegram.  *  Con 
founding  felony.  Confounding  felony.'  What 
is  '  confounding  felony  '  ?  " 

"  It  must  be  a  mistake,"  said  Corona. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Susy.  "  Tom  never  makes 
mistakt  ••>." 

"  It 's  that  telegram  company  made  the 
mistake,"  observed  Puelvir.  "I  never  did 
think  much  of  a  concern  that  would  steal  the 
name  of  the  Woman's  Christian  Union  out 
right  that  way." 


MESSRS.  HIDE  AND  SEEK.  157 

"  Whoever  made  the  mistake,"  said  Corona, 
"  I  think  Tom  must  have  meant  6  compound 
ing.'  I  think  I  've  heard  the  expression.  I  'in 
not  clear  what  it  means.  I  must  ask  Mr. 
Pushett." 

But  Susy  shook  her  head.  She  persisted 
that  confound  was  the  natural  and  proper  word 
in  that  connection.  She  thought  it  might 
have  been  confounded  —  '  confounded  fel 
ony  ' ;  from  what  she  knew  of  Tom's  habits 
of  speech,  she  thought  this  quite  possible. 
Susy  was  very  positive.  She  usually  was. 
And  then  the  baby  cried,  —  the  baby  gen 
erally  did  cry,  —  and  Susy  said  she  wanted 
Corona  to  take  her  to  ride.  Susy  did  not  say, 
but  thought,  that  it  was  very  inhospitable  in 
Corona  that  the  Lady  of  Shalott  had  broken 
her  saddle-girth  and  that  Zero  had  gone  over 
to  the  city  to  get  it  mended.  Susy  did  say 
that  horse  was  always  breaking  something  and 
being  mended ;  and  Corona  replied  that  this 
was  quite  true.  Susy  was  having  a  delight 
ful  visit  at  the  Old  Maid's  Paradise  ;  but  you 
never  would  have  thought  it. 


158  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

The  next  morning  Corona  took  her  sister- 
in-law  and  her  niece  upon  a  drive ;  and  as 
nothing  broke  but  a  buckle  in  the  bridle,  and 
as  the  Lady  did  not  cast  a  shoe,  and  did 
not  happen  to  get  a  great  many  stones  into 
her  feet,  and  was  not  too  warm,  so  that  Co- 
rona  felt  at  liberty  to  let  her  go,  and  was  not 
too  cold,  so  it  was  not  necessary  to  blanket 
her,  they  had  a  charming  drive,  and  returned 
in  excellent  spirits.  Corona  was  just  waiting 
to  give  the  Lady  of  Shalott  her  piece  of  maple 
sugar,  and  to  remind  Zero  to  look  for  rorks 
in  her  feet,  and  be  sure  and  wash  her  ankles, 
and  put  on  her  duster,  and  hang  up  the  har 
ness,  and  not  give  her  anything  for  half  an 
hour,  and  not  to  forget  to  wet  the  oats,  and 
to  remember  the  hay,  and  not  to  take  any 
body  else's  pail,  and  to  look  after  the  bed 
ding,  and  to  give  her  all  the  water  she  want 
ed,  and  to  shut  the  barn  window  where  the 
draught  was,  and  dust  the  cushions,  and  wash 
the  wheels,  and  shake  the  mat,  and  dry  the 
sponges,  and  put  the  chamois  in  the  sun,  ami 
pull  the  buggy  in  out  of  it,  and  shut  the  barn 


MESSRS.  HIDE  AND  SEEK.  159 

door,  and  come  again  at  four  o'clock  —  as 
Corona  was  thus  struggling  with  her  daily  du 
ties  as  a  lone  woman  who  boarded  a  horse  in 
Fairharbor,  Puelvir  came  out  to  tell  her  that 
there  was  another  man  in  the  parlor,  and  she 
thought  he  was  a  widower  or  a  book-agent ; 
she  could  n't  tell  which. 

But  when  Corona  went  into  the  house,  she 
found  that  he  was  a  New  York  detective.  He 
introduced  himself  as  representing  the  famous 
firm  of  Hide  &  Seek,  private  detectives.  He 
admitted  that  he  was  Mr.  Seek.  He  usually 
sent  a  man ;  but  this  case  he  considered  a  lit 
tle  out  of  the  ordinary  run.  Her  brother,  he 
said,  had  sent  him  ;  he  had  requested  them  to 
lose  no  time  in  giving  her  at  least  the  oppor 
tunity  to  put  her  affairs  into  their  hands. 
Mr.  Seek  had  seen  her  brother  for  ten  min 
utes  as  he  was  passing  through  on  his  way  to 
somewhere.  He  produced  a  line  of  introduc 
tion  from  Tom  in  proof  of  these  assertions,  and 
Corona  begged  him  to  be  seated.  Mr.  Seek 
added  that  they  had  ten  dollars  a  day  and  ex 
penses.  As  nearly  as  he  could  make  out,  he 


160  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

should  expect  to  recover  her  bond  in  about 
five  days  after  he  once  got  at  it.  After  a 
little  preliminary  firing,  Corona  confided  to 
Mr.  Seek  that  the  State  did  not  protect  her, 
that  the  Fee-Fi-Fura  charged  their  law-suits 
and  their  inadvertence  to  her,  and  that  Mr. 
Pushett  woke  her  up  nights.  In  short,  she 
said,  she  was  now  ready  to  do  what  she  should 
have  done  the  day  the  robbery  was  committed, 
—  to  put  herself  unreservedly  in  the  han-ls 
of  honorable  private  detectives,  who  could  in 
sure  the  return  of  her  property  for  any  pecu 
niary  consideration  which  the  interest  at  stake 
might  justify  her  in  paying. 

So  Mr.  Seek  took  out  his  note-book  and 
pencil,  as  Mr.  Pushett  had  done  ;  and  he,  in 
his  turn,  called  for  the  points  of  the  case. 
Corona  was  delighted  with  the  exquisite  agil 
ity  which  marked  the  detective's  movements. 
They  were  in  highly-organized  contrast  to  the 
crude  energy  of  the  local  force  or  the  sedative 
benediction  of  State  protection.  The  profes 
sional  detective  had  the  "  go  "  of  a  man  who 
charged  by  the  comma,  and  to  whom  every 


MESSRS.   HIDE  AND  SEEK.  161 

interrogation  point  meant  money.  He  said 
it  would  be  necessary  to  ask  a  few  questions, 
and  he  proceeded  something  in  the  following 
manner,  after  begging  the  lady's  pardon  for 
his  precision  of  detail :  — 

"  Your  name,  if  you  please  ?  Maiden 
name  ?  Where  do  you  reside  in  the  winter  ? 
Parents  living  ?  Their  name  ?  Name  of  Pa 
ternal  Grandfather  ?  Maternal  Grandmoth 
er  ?  Her  maiden  name  ?  Any  consump 
tion  in  your  family  ?  Insanity  ?  Epilepsy  ? 
Are  you  a  Homreopathist  ?  As  a  family,  do 
you  have  severe  colds?  Any  of  your  folks 
ever  in  prison  ?  Ever  hung  for  anything  ? 
Are  you  quick-tempered  ?  How  old  are  you  ? 
Where  were  you  born  ?  Did  you  ever  have 
red  hair?  False  teeth?  What  is  your 
height,  if  you  please  ?  Blue  eyes  ?  Have 
you  any  occupation  ?  Do  you  drink  coffee  ? 
Is  it  your  intention  to  marry?  How  much 
are  you  worth  ?  " 

When  the  detective  had  put  these  questions, 
with  others  of  an  equally  comprehensive  na 
ture,  he  requested  to  see  the  servants  of  the 


11 


162  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

family.  Zero  was  first  brought  upon  the  scene. 
The  detective  took  the  boy  in  with  one  pier 
cing  professional  glance,  then  made  a  per 
fectly  unconscious  and  rather  interesting  ges 
ture  with  the  lead  pencil,  as  if  he  canceled 
that  entry  in  the  topic.  He  gave,  however, 
a  few  passing  inquiries  :  — 

"  Well,  Zero,  how  long  have  you  been  in 
the  service  of  this  lady  ? " 

"Hey?" 

"  How  long  have  you  worked  for  this 
lady?" 

"  Lady  ?  The  horse's  name 's  the  Lady. 
She  calls  her  the  Lady  that  Sold  Out.  I  take 
care  of  her.  She 's  a  good  horse." 

"Are  you  deaf?" 

"Eh?" 

"  Deaf.    Are  you  DEAF  ?  " 

"  No,  I  ain't  deef.  I  'm  a  little  hard  o* 
hearin'." 

"  Who  was  the  person  who  asked  you  how 
much  money  your  employer  kept  "  — 

"Hi?" 

"  Who  was  the  person  f  "  etc.,  etc. 


MESSRS.  HIDE  AND  SEEK.  163 

"  He  warn't  a  person.     He  was  a  boy." 

"  What  was  his  name  ?  " 

"Hey?  Dimno.  Never  see  him  afore. 
Never  see  him  sence.  He  was  a  kind  of  long 
boy.  He  don't  belong  in  these  parts.  What  ? 
I  did  n't  sense  what  you  said.  Hey  ?  " 

"  Where  were  you  on  the  night  of  the  rob 
bery  ?  " 

"  Me  ?  I  was  to  home,  sleepin'  along  of 
my  little  brother." 

"How    did  you  spend  the  previous  even- 

•  O  " 

mg? 

"  Marm  give  me  a  Sunday-school  lesson  to 
learn  to  my  sister.  I  helped  along  of  the 
dishes  first,  and  chopped  the  kindlin'." 

"  Are  you  aware  that  you  might  have  been 
the  subject  of  suspicion  in  this  business  ?  " 

"Hey?" 

"  Suspicion.    Do  you  know  you  might "  — 

"  Fishin  ?  No,  I  ain't  fishin  these  days.  I 
take  care  of  her  and  her  horse." 

At  this  point  the  detective  said  that  would 
do,  and  requested  to  see  the  female  domestic. 
Puelvir  came.  She  had  her  crimps  on,  and  a 


164  BURGLARS   IN  PARADISE. 

fresh  dress.  She  stood  with  her  hands  upon 
her  hips.  She  and  the  detective  eyed  each 
other.  The  detective  smiled  slightly.  But 
Puelvir  did  not  smile. 

"  Here  I  be  !  "  she  began.  "  What  do  you 
want  of  me  ?  " 

"  Your  name,  if  agreeable  to  you." 

'( It 's  a  very  agreeable  name  to  me.  I  was 
christened  Puella  Virginia  of  a  Christmas 
Sunday  in  the  Baptist  meetin-house.  Nor 
I  Ve  never  seen  any  reason  to  change  it, 
nuther." 

"Your  age?" 

"  Be  you  the  census-taker  ?  " 

"  I  am  anything  that  serves  my  purposes  in 
this  business." 

"  The  last  one  asked  me  how  many  children 
there  was  in  this  house.  I  shut  the  door  in 
his  face,  and  sent  him  about  his  business. 
That  one  you  hear  cryin*  upstairs  belongs 
to  her  sister-in-law.  It  don't  reside  here, 
thanks  to  mercy." 

"  You  have  forgotten  to  tell  ine  how  old 
you  are." 


MESSRS.   HIDE  AND  SEEK.  165 

"  Just  fifteen  come  Janooary,"  said  Puelvir, 
grimly. 

"  How  long  do  you  purpose  to  remain  in 
the  service  of  this  lady  ?  " 

"  Long  as  she  '11  have  me." 

"  Are  you  attached  to  her  service  ?  " 

"  I  refused  two  for  her  in  a  year  and  six 
months." 

"  Two  what  ?  " 

"  Two  widderers.  (Never  you  mind,  Miss 
Corona  ;  I  don't  count  the  raspberry  man 
neither.") 

"  That  peddler  —  he  was  an  old  acquaint 
ance  of  yours,  I  believe ;  was  n't  he  ?  Was 
he  an  agreeable  gentleman  ?  " 

"  What  are  you  up  to  ? "  said  Puelvir, 
sharply. 

"  He  said  some  polite  things,  perhaps,  to 
you.  I  should  think  he  might.  I  was  merely 
inquiring  "  — 

"  Men  folks  are  most  generally  polite  to  me. 
They  hev  to  be." 

"  Especially  in  this  case,  when  it  was  an  old 
friend,  I  think  you  said.  Somebody  whose 


16G  BURGLARS  /A*  PARADISE. 

acquaintance  you  formed  last  winter  ?  Wanted 
to  marry  you,  I  dare  say,  if  you  had  returned 
his  sentiments  ?  " 

"  Look  a  here  !  "  said  Puelvir,  slowly,  in  a 
voice  of  concentrated  passion  ;  all  her  gaunt, 
faithful  face  seemed  to  draw  back  and  square 
off  at  the  detective :  "  Do  you  mean  —  do 
you  durst  to  mean  to  —  to  come  here  with 
the  drippin's  of  a  notion  in  the  bottom  of 
your  miser'ble  sin-akin'  Noo  York  City  soul, 
that  me  and  her  burglars  was  on  terms  ?  Do 
you  darst  to  figger  it  as  I  move  in  any  sech 
circle  of  society?  Do  you  darst  to  suppose 
—  Lord  have  mercy  on  his  soul !  "  cried  Puel 
vir,  turning  to  her  mistress  with  a  motion 
and  expression  which  were  so  noble  that  they 
could  not  fail  of  being  beautiful.  "  What 
do  you  suppose  the  poor  critter  does  darst  to 
suppose?  Me — me,  Miss  Corona,  —  and 
I  've  been  that  fond  of  you.  Well,  there ! 
Let  the  creetur  go.  He  ain't  wuth  a  tear. 
not  even  where  salt 's  so  plenty  as  it  is  along 
shore.  I  won't  cry  for  him;  you  don't  catch 
me.  You  —  poor  —  creetur,"  added  Puelvir, 


MESSRS.   HIDE  AND  SEEK.  167 

gently :  "  You  're  wuss  than  a  census-taker. 
You  may  go.  I  have  n't  nothin'  more  to  say 
to  you.  You  may  go.  I  've  got  some  sass 
to  season.  You  '11  have  to  excuse  me,  sir. 
Good-mornin'." 

When  the  detective  had  finished  his  con 
versations  with  Corona  and  Zero  and  Puelvir, 
and  had  examined  the  premises  carefully,  and 
had  interviewed  the  expressman  and  Mr.  Push- 
ett,  he  expressed  himself  as  perfectly  satis 
fied  with  his  morning's  work.  He  said  it  was 
as  clear  a  case  as  he  ever  had  in  his  life.  He 
said  all  he  wanted  now  was  four  days.  He 
expected  to  be  able  to  put  his  finger  on  the 
bond  in  four  days.  It  was  a  beautiful  case, 
he  said.  The  servants  were  not  implicated ; 
he  had  never  thought  the  servants  were  impli 
cated.  This  was  the  work  of  a  professional 
cracksman.  What  was  more,  Mr.  Seek  added, 
with  a  certain  pride  in  his  tone,  it  was  the 
work  of  New  York  cracksmen.  It  was  too 
neat  to  be  done  anywhere  else.  They  talk 
about  the  culture  of  Boston  !  It  was  all  very 
well ;  but  when  you  came  to  a  thing  of  this 


168  liriiGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

kind,  it  could  n't  be  compassed  outside  of 
New  York.  It  was  the  most  beautiful  piece 
of  work  he  had  seen  for  some  time.  There 
was  a  dexterity,  a  dare,  a  reticence  about  the 
job,  which,  professionally  speaking,  excited 
Mr.  Seek's  admiration.  He  worked  himself 
into  such  a  glow  upon  the  subject  that  Co 
rona  quite  shared  his  enthusiasm.  She  be 
gan  to  feel  it  something  of  an  honor  to  have 
been  burgled  by  such  highly-developed  cracks 
men  ;  and  when  Mr.  Seek  assured  her  that  he 
knew  the  fellow  past  all  question,  her  excite 
ment  waxed  rapidly. 

"  Beyond  all  doubt,"  said  Mr.  Seek,  as  he 
rose  to  take  his  adieus,  "  the  man  who  robbed 
your  house  is  Marcus  Aurelius  Bobbin  —  a 
notorious  cracksman  ;  belongs  to  the  second 
story  gang ;  he  's  an  expert ;  I  know  him 
well.  Been  in  Sing-Sing  three  times,  for 
forgery,  and  other  little  matters.  There  is  n't 
a  deeper  fellow  in  the  country  ;  his  skill  is 
really  something  uncommon.  If  he  is  n't 
drunk,  I  can  put  my  finger  on  him  to-mor 
row  evening.  If  he  is  n't  here,  he  will  be 


MESSRS.   HIDE  AND   SEEK.  169 

there  or  there.  I  know  every  saloon  he  vis 
its  ;  every  pal  in  his  gang- ;  every  indictment 
that  is  hanging  over  his  head.  There  are 
four  against  him  already.  Your  bond  is  in 
the  hands  of  his  fence.  I  know  his  fence. 
Or  it  is  at  his  pawnbroker's.  I  know  his 
pawnbroker  very  well.  I  'd  raise  the  reward 
a  few  dollars,  if  I  was  you.  Perhaps  I  'd 
print  a  few  more  circulars.  I  'd  make  it  up 
to  two  thousand.  Give  me  a  few  hundred  to 
scatter  as  I  go  along.  In  case  of  any  hitch 
it  would  be  a  good  thing.  But  I  am  certain 
of  my  clew.  I  am  confident  Marcus  Aure- 
lius  will  come  to  terms.  In  point  of  fact,  I 
presume  he  is  only  waiting  to  hear  from  me. 
He  counts  upon  your  taking  —  any  honor 
able  steps.  You  may  expect  to  see  your  bond 
within  six  days.  I  shall  telegraph  you  as 
soon  as  I  see  my  man.  It  is  a  remarkably 
neat  case.  I  will  keep  you  informed.  You 
will  probably  hear  from  me  to-morrow  night." 
But  Corona  did  not  hear  from  the  New 
York  detective  to-morrow  night,  nor  the  next 
night,  nor  the  next.  It  lacked  a  little  of  a 


170  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

week  from  the  day  of  his  visit  at  Paradise, 
when  a  letter  was  received  from  Mr.  Seek, 
which  ran  :  — 

"  OFFICE  OF  Him.  SKFK  &  Co., 
NEW  YORK  CITY. 

"  DEAR  MADAM,  —  Marcus  Aurelius  Bob 
bin  is  committed  for  murder  in  the  second 
degree.  As  it  seems  he  was  in  prison  at  the 
date  of  the  robbery,  we  find  him  able  to 
prove  an  alibi.  We  have  now  a  better  clew 
than  that.  Have  no  doubt  whatever  that  we 
are  on  the  right  scent  this  time.  Please  send 
by  check,  to  order,  forty  dollars  more  by  re 
turn  mail.  It  will  be  needed  immediately. 
Yours,  etc.,  HIDE,  SEEK  &  Co." 

Days  passed.  Nights  fled.  The  moon 
waned.  At  intervals  Corona  heard  from 
Messrs.  Hide  &  Seek.  Usually  it  was  by 
telegraph  ;  collect  dispatches.  They  were 
always  cheerful  dispatches.  Sometimes  they 
said :  — 

"  Must  have  fifty  dollars  to  •  morrow. 
New  clew." 

Maddening    messages    like    these    dashed 


MESSRS.   HIDE  AND   SEEK.  171 

upon  her,  inevitably  in  the  evening  after  the 
last  train  had  gone  :  — 

"  Come  'to  New  York,  or  send  agent. 
Must  consult  with  you." 

Or,  without  a  moments  warning,  she  found 
herself  plunged  into  an  abyss  like  this  :  - — 

"  Send  seventy-Jive  dollars  by  telegraph. 
Pawnbroker  hedges.  All  goes  well." 

Ou  vont  les  vieilles  lunes  ?  Where  go  the 
old  clews  ?  Corona  went  so  far  as  to  wonder 
sometimes  ;  but  she  never  went  any  further. 
Nothing  went  any  further,  except  her  check 
book.  She  used  up  one  and  began  another 
in  the  ardent  service  of  Messrs.  Hide  &  Seek. 
But  neither  Messrs.  Hide  &  Seek,  nor  the 
Protecting  State,  nor  Mr.  Pushett,  nor  time, 
nor  the  burglars,  nor  the  check-book,  restored 
to  Paradise  that  Registered  Bond  of  the  Fee- 
Fi-Fum  and  I.  0.  U. 


JUDAS   JOHNS. 

AND  still  the  summer  fled.  The  nastur 
tiums  in  the  dory  burst  into  a  blaze  outside 
the  cottage  windows ;  the  ardent  flowers 
leaped  up  the  little  masts  and  caught  each 
other  across  the  ropes  of  twine,  and  flung  to 
the  light  winds  a  sheet  of  gold.  Where 
once  the  old  gray  sail  had  perilously  tossed 
the  weather-daring  boat  across  the  bar  (for, 
to  put  a  sail  on  a  dory,  it  is  well  known,  is 
to  take  one's  life  in  one's  hands)  the  yellow 
flowers  turned  their  burning  faces  to  look 
into  sheltered  windows,  or  leaned  to  neigh 
bors'  children  lifting  up,  or  played  tricks 
with  the  restless  horse,  when  she  stood  wait 
ing  too  long  for  her  driver,  on  the  white-hot 
mornings.  The  helpless  boat  had  lost  her 
air  of  tugging  at  her  anchor  to  get  away  ; 


JUDAS  JOHNS.  173 

she  had  settled  to  her  lot,  like  gentle  old  age 
to  its  fireside  corner ;  the  storms  had  broken 
and  were  past ;  the  tide  was  stemmed,  and 
had  set  in.  Here  was  the  last  haven  —  for 
the  wave  and  the  wind,  the  grass-blade  and 
the  seed ;  for  the  surf  and  the  thunder,  the 
flowering  of  little  thoughts  and  cares  ;  for 
action  and  passion  and  courage,  patience  and 
waiting  and  peace.  The  dory  accepted  its 
fate  like  a  lovable  old  man. 

The  summer  fled ;  too  fast  for  the  busy 
feet  that  now  would  never  overtake  her ;  too 
fast  for  the  heart  distraught  with  cares  she 
would  have  none  of.  If  Marcus  Aurelius 
Bobbin  pined  in  prison,  if  Messrs.  Hide  & 
Seek  pranced  after  all  the  clews  in  New  York 
society,  what  is  that  (said  summer  in  Fair- 
harbor),  what  is  that  to  me  or  thee  ? 

But  never  to  the  threshold  of  Paradise  re 
turned  —  nay,  not  by  so  much  as  a  registered 
coupon  —  that  registered  bond  No.  30,075, 
Fe-Fi-Fum  and  I.  0.  U. 

It  was  a  warm  afternoon  in  late  August 
when  the  event  which  it  is  the  duty  of  this 


174  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

chapter  to  record  took  place.  It  took  place, 
like  most  of  the  others,  in  the  gray  parlor, 
which  was  fast  assuming  to  Corona's  wearied 
imagination  the  character  of  a  penitentiary 
or  police-station ;  she  felt  as  if  it  would  need 
somo  immense  moral  or  mental  cologne- 
sprinkler  to  deodorize  from  her  gentle  home 
the  odic  forces  which  had  invisibly  wandered 
thither  with  the  magnetism  of  the  strange 
visitants  whom  misfortune  had  imposed  upon 
her.  She  continued,  at  stray  moments,  to 
think  of  what  Mary  said  about  her  lonely 
situation. 

It  was  more  lonely  than  usual  just  now. 
Mary  was  traveling  with  her  husband.  Tom 
had  taken  Susy  and  the  baby  to  the  Yellow 
stone  on  what  he  called  a  little  trip.  Elf 
was  at  Bar  Harbor.  All  of  the  girls  v 
going  somewhere,  or  busy  somehow  ;  it  was 
one  of  the  interludes  when  there  was  nobody 
in  particular  to  visit  Paradise.  Puelvir  alone 
stayed  by  her ;  Puelvir  and  the  summer 
boarders,  Matthew  Launcelot  and  the  Lady 
of  Shalott  and  Zero  —  and  tho  ocean.  Alter 


JUDAS  JOHNS.  175 

all,  how  many  !  Corona  counted  them  on 
her  fingers,  and  took  heart  easily  ;  she  al 
ways  did. 

On  this  hot  afternoon  of  which  I  speak, 
she  was  sitting  quite  by  herself  in  a  cool 
Wakefield  chair,  in  the  draught  between  the 
open  door  and  windows.  The  blinds  were 
closed,  and  the  light  in  .he  room  was  dim. 
It  was  so  dim  that,  when  a  shadow  fell  across 
it,  she  did  not  at  first  observe  that  some  one 
had  entered  the  room,  and  was  standing, 
staring  about.  Immediately,  however,  she 
saw,  started,  and  sprang  to  her  feet.  This 
was  like  no  guest  who  had  ever  been  seen  in 
Paradise  ;  thL  was  quite  another  thing. 

When  she  sprang,  the  man  sprang  too  ; 
instinctively  put  his  hand  upon  what  may 
have  been  his  pistol-belt  —  dropped  it,  and 
recovered  himself. 

"I'll  — I'll  not  harm  you,"  he  said. 
"  I  've  come  on  business." 

"  I  will  listen  to  your  business,"  said  Co 
rona,  quietly. 

He  was  a  pitiable  looking  man  ;  not  very 


176  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

large,  nor  very  strong-looking,  nor  very 
young.  Hidden  deeds  had  carved  ugly  lines 
in  his  weak  face ;  evil  years  had  lighted  fires 
in  his  narrow  eyes  that  smouldered  with  t la- 
unconscious  self-betrayal  of  vice  ;  he  stooped, 
and  he  had  a  cough,  and  his  hands  shook 
like  those  of  a  person  who  had  palsy  hang 
ing  about  him.  He  was  not  very  well  clad, 
and  looked  as  if  he  might  have  been  a  drink 
ing  man.  Take  him  all  in  all,  he  was  not  a 
pleasant  looking  person. 

After  that  first  throb,  Corona's  heart  beat 
evenly ;  she  did  not  feel  afraid  of  him  some 
how  ;  fear  was  not  the  word.  Her  emotions 
pulsated  from  indignation  to  pity  like  the 
pendulum  of  a  delicate  clock. 

"  Sit  down,"  she  said,  "  and  explain  your 
errand.  (Come  here,  Matthew  Lauucelot !) 
I  will  hold  the  dog.  (Be  still,  Matthew  ! 
Do  not  touch  this  person.  I  will  take  can- 
of  myself.  When  I  want  you,  I  will  tell 
you.  Sit  still,  sir.") 

"  He  seems  to  be  a  spirited  dog,"  objected 
the  stranger,  discontentedly.  "  Those  tan 


JUDAS  JOHNS.  177 

terriers  are  considered  the  best  watch-dogs  in 
the  world  by  —  those  that  have  reason  to 
know,  I  believe.  You  '11  explain  to  him., 
may  be,  that  I  don't  mean  any  harm  to  any 
body." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  lady.    "  I  will  explain  it." 

"  I  did  n't  know  I  'd  got  a  woman  to  deal 
with,"  began  the  stranger,  with  embarrass 
ment.  "  There  was  nothing  but  initials 
to  the  advertisement.  Where  's  your  hus 
band  ?  " 

"  He  is  not  here  just  now,"  replied  Co 
rona. 

"  Father  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Brother  ?  No  man  you  could  put  hands 
on  ?  I  'd  rather  deal  with  a  man." 

"  Whoever  has  errands  at  this  house  must 
deal  with  me." 

"  I  suppose  "  —  the  visitor  hesitated  —  "I 
suppose  you  know  what  I  've  come  for  ?  " 

"  What  have  you  come  for  ?  " 

"  It 's  about  —  I  come  on  business  about 
your  bond.  I  saw  your  advertisement  and 

12 


178  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

two  of  your  circulars.     You  offered  a  reward 

for  the  recovery  of  the  bond." 
«  I  did." 

"  Mean  to  pay  it  ?  " 
"  Certainly.     When   the  bond  is  restored 

to  me  I  shall  pay  whatever  I  have  offered  to 

the  restorer." 

"  Take  your  Bible  oath  to  it  ?  " 

"  A  lady's  word  is  as  good  as  her  oath." 

"Is   it?"   asked    the   fellow,    with    what 

seemed  like  a  touch  of   rralitv  in  his  tone. 

• 

"  I  don't  know  much  about  ladies." 

"  I  know  where  your  property  is,"  ven 
tured  the  guest,  after  an  awkward  silence. 
"  I  could  get  it  returned  to  you." 

"  Did  you  steal  it  ?  "  asked  Corona,  quietly. 
"  Are  you  the  thief  ?  " 

«  So  help  me  God  !     No !  " 

"  I  wonder  if  you  do  expect  God  to  help 
you  ?  "  she  asked,  with  a  kind  of  distant  in 
tellectual  curiosity. 

"Ma'am?" 

"  Never  mind.  It  seems  'to  me  that  I 
should  need  some  other  proof  that  you  are 


JUDAS  JOHNS.  179 

not  the  thief,  besides  the  very  natural  relig 
ious  feeling  of  dependence  upon  the  Al 
mighty  which  you  express." 

"  Do  you  think  I  'd  be  such  a  dummed 
fool  as  to  come  here  if  I  was  ?  " 

This  was  the  outcry  of  Nature,  and  Co 
rona  bowed  to  the  argument. 

"  I  suppose,"  she  said,  "  you  are  what  is 
called  a  <  fence  ?'  Is  that  it?" 

"  Never  you  mind,"  said  her  visitor,  sur 
lily,  "  what  I  am.  You  advertise  for  your 
lost  property.  You  offer  a  reward.  I  see 
your  advertisement.  I  offer  to  return  your 
property.  That  is  all  that  concerns  you  in 
the  business,  anyhow." 

"  It  might  be,  and  might  not  be,"  returned 
Corona.  "  I  am  not  used  to  such  business. 
If  I  can  recover  my  property  honorably,  I 
shall  be  glad  to  do  it.  If  I  can't,  I  shall  let 
it  go.  Money  is  not  the  only  thing  to  be 
considered  in  such  a  question." 

"  Ma'am  ?  "  said  the  stranger  again. 

"  You  ain't  rich,  are  you  ?  "  he  observed, 
after  looking  about  the  little  room.  His  eyes 


180  BURGLARS  IN  PARAI> 

wandered  over  the  books  and  pictures  with 
dull  interest,  fell  on  the  cotton-flannel  up 
holstery,  and  returned  to  the  floor;  where 
they  sank,  it  seemed  from  force  of  habit,  like 
something  weighted,  to  drown  in  deep  water. 

"No,  I  am  not  rich.  I  sometimes  wonder 
how  a  man  must  feel  —  to  rob  a  woman." 

"  A  cracksman  is  a  busy  man,"  observed 
the  caller.  "  People  of  their  profession 
have  so  many  different  interests,  you  know. 
They  're  polite  men,  too.  It 's  seldom  they 
hurt  a  lady  if  it  comes  to  the  worst ;  they  '11 
go  out  of  their  way  rather  than  to  shoot  a 
lady.  But  about  this  bond.  If  you  will  let 
me  go  home  and  consult  with  a  friend  of 
mine  —  I  'm  out  of  money ;  I  wonder  if  you 
could  lend  me  enough  to  get  to  New  York  ? 
No  ?  Oh  !  well,  it 's  of  no  consequence,  ami 
then,  if  you  will  advertise  in  the  New  York 
*  Corkscrew,'  and  name  thp  day  and  place, 
and  come  on  yourself,  and  say,  '  So  help  you 
God,  you  '11  act  in  good  faith,'  and  not  men 
tion  the  matter  to  anybody,  and  bring  the 
cash  with  you  for  the  sum  you  offer,  I  — • 


JUDAS  JOHNS.  181 

think  —  I  know  a  man  who  is  acquainted 
with  a  f ellow  —  who  will  on  that  occasion  re 
store  your  bond." 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  "  asked  this  unpro 
tected  woman  at  this  juncture. 

"You  may  call  me  what  you  please,"  said 
the  "  fence,"  looking  heavily  into  his  hat. 

"  Suppose  I  call  you  —  Judas  Johns  ?  " 

"  That  will  do  as  well  as  any  name  for 
me,"  returned  the  man.  "  I  don't  know  as 
I  —  have  you  a  strong  preference  for  the  first 
name  you  mention  ?  " 

"  It  occurred  to  me  at  the  moment ;  that 
is  all,"  said  the  lady. 

"  My  conditions  are  very  simple,"  pleaded 
the  "  fence,"  lifting  his  narrow  eyes  to  her 
serious,  pale  face.  "  It 's  a  registered  bond 
and  no  mortal  use  to  'em  except  they  get  the 
reward.  I  don't  think  you  '11  have  any  trou 
ble.  You  just  do  as  I  tell  you,  and  adver 
tise,  and  come  on.  You  'd  be  met  at  any 
safe  and  respectable  place  you  name,  and  no 
harm  could  come  to  you." 

"  Why  don't  you  come  to  me  with  my 
property  ?  "  asked  the  bondholder. 


182  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

"  Lord  !  "  cried  the  man,  looking  up.  "  I 
wouldn't  put  myself  in  this  position  again 
for  the  worth  of  the  whole  bond.  Folk;; 
stared  at  me  at  your  depot  here.  Your  po 
lice  follered  me.  You  'd  have  thought  some 
thing  ailed  me." 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  wonder,"  remarked 
Corona,  looking  the  poor  wretch  over. 

"  I  don't  know  how  I  'm  going  to  get  out 
of  it,  either,"  querulously.  "  You  're  on  a 
branch,  and  I  've  got  to  get  back  the  way  I 
come.  You  don't  catch  me  in  this  blarsted 
town  again,  if  I  can  see  my  way  out  of  it. 
Say.  You  won't  make  trouble  for  me,  will 
you  ?  I  come  in  good  faith.  You  '11  treat 
me  in  good  faith,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Judas  Johns,"  said  Corona,  in  a  low 
voice,  "  you  had  better  take  the  next  train, 
and  go.  I  have  nothing  more  to  say  to 
you." 

"  You  don't  mean  it  ?  "  cried  Judas  Johns. 
"  Why,  I  could  restore  your  property  in  a 
week  ! " 

"  When  my  property  is  restored  to  me,  I 


JUDAS  JOHNS.  183 

shall  receive  it,"  said  Corona,  who  had,  be  it 
confessed,  the  vaguest  idea  whether  she  were 
behaving  like  a  heroine  or  a  fool ;  she  had 
nothing  but  blind  instinct  to  guide  her  ;  and 
instinct  said  :  "  Stop  here." 

"  I  don't  know  what  compounding  felony 
is,"  she  added,  "  and  very  likely  I  should  n't 
know  a  felon  if  I  saw  him.  But  I  prefer  not 
to  pursue  the  matter,  Mr.  Judas  Johns,  in 
the  way  you  propose.  The  train  leaves  at 
half -past  five.  It  will  take  you  an  hour  to 
get  over  there." 

"You  ain't  going  to  play  any  dodge  on 
me,  are  you  ?  "  asked  Judas  Johns,  turning 
ghastly  white. 

"  I  could  n't  if  I  wanted  to.  The  police 
are  three  miles  away,  and  I  have  no  tele 
phone.  You  could  hide  in  the  woods  over 
yonder  a  week,  and  nobody  find  you.  No, 
I  do  not  think  it  my  duty  to  trouble  you  any 
further  than  to  ask  you  to  bring  our  inter 
view  to  an  end." 

"  I  ain't  the  burglar,  you  know,"  urged 
Judas  Johns.  "  My  business  never  has  run  in 


184  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

that  line."  He  rose  to  go,  glancing  uneasily 
about. 

"  I  understand,"  said  Corona.  Do  what 
she  might,  pity  half  slew  indignation  in  her 
soul,  as  she  looked  solemnly  at  the  weak  and 
(ringing  figure  that  crawled  away  from  her. 
Judas  Johns  shook  now,  but  not  with  palsy ; 
and  staggered,  but  not  from  drink.  He  vas 
the  picture  of  fear. 

"  I  Ve  had  a  fit  of  sickness,"  he  said.  "  I 
ain't  very  strong.  I  wish  I  was  —  in  New 
York.  I  have  n't  enjoyed  my  visit  to  this 
town.  It 's  a  Godforsaken  country." 

As  Judas  Johns  halted  on  the  steps  of  the 
cottage  to  look  up  and  down  the  street  with 
his  long,  furtive,  anxious  look,  curie >sity  over 
came  stateliness  hi  Corona,  for  that  last  mo 
ment's  chance,  and  she  asked  :  — 

"  Do  you  suppose,  Mr.  Johns,  from  your  — 
general  —  acquaintance  with  the  world  — 
have  you  any  idea  that  the  men  who  stole  my 
bond  were  the  same  that  stole  a  paj>er  of  tarks 
and  a  hatchet  and  so  on  in  the  neighborhood, 
early  in  June  ?  " 


JUDAS  JOHNS.  185 

"  What  do  you  take  'em  for  ?  "  cried  Mr. 
Judas  Johns. 

"  Then  it  was  n't  the  same  gang  ?  " 

"  Your  job  was  done  by  the  most  accom 
plished  cracksman  in  the  United  States.  Why, 
he  never  touches  anything  below  $500  !  " 

"  Was  it  the  peddler  ? "  asked  Corona, 
breathlessly.  But  Mr.  Johns  made  no  reply. 
He  put  his  hat  on,  jammed  it  well  over  his 
eyes,  and  moved  away. 

"  And  those  clews  —  all  those  clews  ?  " 
ventured  Corona.  "  The  local  police,  and 
the  State  police,  and  the  private  detective  — 
they  all  have  clews,  you  know.  Are  none  of 
them  "  —  She  stopped. 

Mr.  Judas  Johns  regarded  her  as  straight 
as  a  man  with  eyes  so  crooked  could  regard 
a  lady  who  had  shown  some  sense  in  a  trying 
position.  A  stray  smile  crept  across  his  un 
holy  features,  the  first  and  only  one  which  she 
had  seen. 

"  You  've  treated  me  like  a  —  like  a  — 
lady,"  he  said  slowly.  "  I  would  n't  spend  any 
more  money  if  I  was  you." 


186  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

"  You  're  sure  you  could  n't  advance  me 
passage-money  to  New  York,  are  you  ?  "  he 
added,  turning  round  when  he  had  gone  as 
tar  as  the  clothes-post. 

"  Quite  sure.  But  I  will  give  you  an  omni 
bus  ticket  —  a  Fairharbor  omnibus  ticket  to 
the  station,  if  you  would  like  it." 

Mr.  Johns  replied  that  he  should  like  it 
very  much,  and  Corona  gave  him  an  omnibus 
ticket. 

Matthew  Launcelot  up  to  this  time  had 
remained  unsubmissive,  but  a  fixture  in  his 
mistress's  arms.  At  intervals  he  had  inter 
rupted  her  conversation  with  Mr.  Judas  Johns 
by  anguished  growls  and  yawns  of  thwarted 
ferocity  ;  now  and  then  he  struggled  like  the 
moral  law  in  the  grasp  of  the  Devil  and  all 
his  angels,  in  Corona's  tender  clutch.  As 
the  visitor  turned  to  go,  and  when  he  was 
well  past  the  doryful  of  nasturtiums,  and  down 
the  road,  and  through  the  gate,  the  dog  gave 
one  unearthly  yell,  and,  seeming  to  shriek  his 
soul  and  body  out  of  Corona's  arms  sprang 
from  them,  and  off  like  a  cauuou-ball  after 
Mr.  Judas  Johns. 


JUDAS  JOHNS.  187 

"  Matthew  !  Matthew  Launcelot !  Come 
back !  Come  here  this  minute,  sir !  Oh  ! 
Puelvir,  stop  that  dog  !  Matthew  Launcelot! 
Oh,  I  would  n't  have  had  this  happen  !  Mat 
thew  !  PUELVIR  !  " 

"  Have  mercy  upon  ye  !  "  cried  Puelvir, 
running  wildly  about.  "  It 's  the  burglar  !  " 

"  It 's  not  the  burglar,  Puelvir  !  Stop  the 
dog  !  Matthew  Launcelot !  Don't  you  touch 
that  man  !  " 

"  If  it  ain't  t  burglar,  it 's  his  first  cou 
sin  on  the  mother's  side  !  "  rebelled  Puelvir. 
"  Don't  you  ask  me  to  stop  the  dog  for  you, 
Miss  Corona  !  " 

The  dog  had  leaped  as  far  as  the  gate  and 
stood  bristling  ;  at  his  mistress's  voice  he 
turned  his  angry  head ;  Mr.  Judas  Johns,  too 
terrified  to  hurry,  gave  one  beseeching  glance 
at  Corona  and  stood  still.  The  dog  he  could 
kick  into  the  Harbor  ;  but  against  the  scene 
he  was  powerless.  The  people  on  the  beach 
began  to  collect  in  groups  and  look  idly  up 
the  street.  All  the  consequences  forced  them 
selves  through  Corona's  imagination  in  an 
instant's  diameter. 


188  BURGLARS   IN  PARADISE. 

"  Matthew  Launcelot,  come  here"  she  said, 
in  a  terrible  voice.  The  terrier  looked  at 
her  —  at  Mr.  Judas  Johns  —  and  at  her 
again.  All  the  while  he  was  barking  thun 
derously.  It  was  a  duel  between  the  dog  and 
the  mistress. 

"  Matthew  Launcelot,  you  have  no  business 
to  touch  that  person  !  Come  Acre,  sir  !  " 

Matthew  walked  deliberately  through  the 
gate,  up  the  street  a  little  way. 

"  Let  him  alone,  BIT  !  Come  here,  sir. 
Come  here  to  me  !  " 

"  Would  n't,  if  I  was  him  !  "  said  Puelvir, 
virtuously.  The  dog  looked  back  over  his 
shoulder. 

"  Come  here,  or  I  '11  —  I  '11  have  somebody 
else  beat  you  !  "  called  the  mistress. 

The  dog  hesitated,  turned,  and  came  slowly 
back  ;  he  was  trembling  with  baffled  rage ; 
Corona  patted  him,  but  he  did  not  kiss  her. 
Outraged  respectability  flashed  from  his  fiery 
eyes.  A  creature  defeated  in  his  own  voca 
tion  —  a  conscience  called  off  its  post  of  duty 
by  another  conscience  —  Matthew  Launcelot 
obeyed,  because  he  was  a  dog. 


JUDAS  JOHNS.  189 

But  he  howled  after  the  retreating  figure 
of  Mr.  Judas  Johns,  as  it  passed  —  a  weak 
and  dreary  spectacle  —  up  the  street,  as  if 
the  foundations  of  human  civilization  depend 
ed  upon  the  amount  of  noise  that  could  be 
made  before  the  wretched  man  had  turned 
the  corner. 


XL 

• 

WHAT   IS    CALLED  FRIENDSHIP. 

BUT  still  the  summer  took  to  herself  her 
scented  wings;  dipped  them  in  the  glowing 
waves  of  the  Harbor  as  she  flitted  over,  and 
lifted  them  dripping  with  the  deeper  colors 
of  the  harvest  days.  For  it  was  September 
in  Fairharbor ;  and  Paradise  had  abandoned 
its  search  for  the  registered  bond  No.  30,075 
of  the  Fee-Fi-Fum  and  I.  0.  U. 

A  full  account  of  the  visit  of  Mr.  Judas 
Johns  having  passed  from  the  lady  to  the 
detectives,  Messrs.  Hide  &  Seek  luminously 
replied  that  if  Judas  Johns  were  not  the  cel 
ebrated  fence,  Jib  Handover,  he  was  the  still 
more  celebrated  confidence  man,  Tib  Come- 
over.  In  either  case  she  had  been  dealing 
with  a  person  highly  accomplished  in  his  de 
partment,  and  had  effected  a  dextrous  escape 


WHAT  IS   CALLED  FRIENDSHIP.       191 

or  a  serious  mistake,  as  she  chose  to  regard  it, 
or  as  the  event  might  prove.  Messrs.  Hide 
&  Seek  intimated  that  she  should  have  tele 
phoned  to  themselves  before  she  let  the  fellow 
go ;  and  offered  (if  she  would  forward  $6^.50 
more)  to  put  their  finger  on  him  and  inves 
tigate  his  game.  Messrs.  Hide  &  Seek  ob 
served  that  now  we  had  a  clew  that  was  worth 
something,  and  were  assured  that  she  would 
see  her  property  back  witbin  thirty  days. 
Corona  replied  that  she  hoped  she  should ; 
and  that  any  clews  which  it  were  worth  any 
thing  to  anybody  else  to  follow  should  have 
her  benedictions  and  her  prayers,  but  that 
her  personal  assistance  must  henceforth  take 
this  more  spiritual  form.  She  urged  that  she 
had  now  contributed  as  much  to  the  support 
of  the  detective  system  of  the  country  as  she 
felt  to  be  her  quota,  even  from  the  most  pa 
triotic  point  of  view ;  the  only  thing  lacking 
to  the  completion  of  the  situation  was  that 
she  had  failed  to  pay  Judas  John's  return  ex 
penses  to  New  York.  This,  from  an  artistic 
aspect,  might  be  regretted.  Messrs.  Hide  & 


192  BURGLARS   IN  PARADISE. 

Seek  urged  the  matter  a  little.  They  went  so 
i'ar  as  to  say  that  it  was  a  very  inter 
ing  episode,  and  that  Judas  Johns  might  in 
fact  have  really  been  in  the  state  of  health 
and  courage  which  he  represented.  Sickness 
quelled  those  fellows  easily  ;  and  he  had 
put  himself  into  a  neat  trap  if  things  went 
against  him.  On  the  other  hand,  if  he  was 
playing  the  sympathy  dodge,  seeing  he  was 
dealing  with  a  lady  —  nothing  was  more 
likely  —  it  would  be  equally  interesting  to 
settle  the  point. 

Corona  admitted  that  it  was  a  very  inter 
esting  point ;  but  added  that  the  looming 
architecture  of  the  almshouse  of  her  native 
State  was  nearer  to  the  leisure  of  her  imagi 
nation  at  the  present  time.  Not  a  five-cent 
nickel  more  should  she  amuse  herself  by  en 
gulfing  in  the  abyss  which  yawned  between  a 
burgled  bondholder  and  his  property.  The 
burglar  was  welcome  to  her  $500  Fee-Fi-Fum 
and  I.  0.  U.  He  might  retire  from  business 
on  the  value  of  registration,  live  upon  his 
income,  and  become  an  innocent  member  of 
society. 


WHAT  IS   CALLED  FRIENDSHIP.      193 

To  this  conclusion  she  had  come ;  and  to 
this  she  held. 

When  she  told  Puelvir  so,  Puelvir  said  it 
was  about  time.  She  said  they  were  nothing 
but  so  many  men  folks,  anyway  ;  and  land  ! 
what  could  you  expect?  Did  anybody  ever 
know  a  man  to  find  anything,  she  'd  like  to 
know  ?  If  it  was  his  boot-buttoner  or  his 
squash  -  hat,  did  n't  he  set  till  a  woman 
hunted  of  it  up  ?  It  was  n't  in  the  breed, 
Puelvir  said. 

Puelvir  felt  as  though  her  mistress,  after  a 
dissipated  career,  had  returned  to  the  bosom 
of  the  family.  She  petted  her  and  made 
much  of  her,  as  of  a  prodigal  in  an  advanced 
stage  of  penitence.  They  were  quite  by 
themselves  in  these  days  —  the  two  women, 
with  Matthew  Launcelot,  and  the  pretty 
horse ;  for  it  was  September  in  Fairharbor. 

The  summer  guests  had  gone  with  the  wild 
roses  and  the  mosquitoes.  Only  a  few  saun- 
terers  remained  to  dot  the  beach  with  grace 
ful  outlines  ;  and  these  were  they  to  whom 

the  love  of  the  sea  is  a  passion,  not  a  friend- 
is 


194  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

ship.  In  the  deserted  scenery  "  T.  H.  Trader, 
Boxes  and  Shocks,"  again  became  a  promi 
nent  and  interesting  feature.  The  little  gar 
den-plots  in  front  of  the  cottages  lifted  the 
stray  blossoms  which  had  survived  the  botan 
ical  fact  that  flowers  are  not  called  upon  to 
grow  on  Cape  Ann  granite,  and  that  all  the 
beds  one  makes  wash  off  and  trickle  down, 
and  leave  the  seed  and  the  ledge  to  fight  it 
out  between  them.  What  was  properly  called 
"  the  garden  "  consisted  now  of  one  morning- 
glory  and  one  bachelor's  button,  and  these 
had  a  Septemberish  look,  as  of  a  flower  that 
was  feeling  bilious  but  would  not  own  it. 
But  the  doryful  of  nasturtiums  blazed  brave 
ly.  The  pads  of  the  round  leaves  alone  told 
the  tale  of  the  dying  year  ;  these  were  yel 
lowing  and  paling ;  a  few  tones  behind  the 
blossom,  like  embroidery  done  in  tints  to 
match. 

It  was  lonely  in  Paradise  ;  but  it  was  lovely 
in  Paradise ;  there,  as  so  often  elsewhere,  the 
two  came  near  to  being  the  same  thing.  Co 
rona,  after  the  agitations  of  the  summer,  sank 


WHAT  IS   CALLED  FRIENDSHIP.       195 

back  upon  the  cushion  of  her  solitude,  and 
drew  a  deep  breath.  Puelvir  came  often  on 
the  little  errands  and  deceptions  of  affection 
to  see  if  she  wanted  anything,  or  wanted  to 
want  anything. 

Matthew  Launcelot  jumped  into  her  lap 
without  the  form  of  an  invitation,  and  sat 
solid  upon  her  portfolio  or  her  book.  If  she 
intimated  that  some  other  location  or  position 
would  assist  her  occupations,  he  kissed  her. 
The  Lady  of  Shalott  came  faithfully  to  the 
clothes-post  every  day  ;  and  when  she  did  n't 
have  to  be  shod,  or  there  was  n't  a  nut  needed 
in  the  buggy,  or  Zero  did  n't  think  she  had 
a  cold,  and  had  better  not  go  out,  Corona 
drove  down  the  deepening  days,  over  and  over 
and  through  the  shore,  the  downs,  the  woods 
of  Essex,  and  the  distant  beaches  of  the 
Cape ;  and,  as  she  drove,  she  loved  every  wave 
and  pebble,  and  the  attitude  of  every  leaf, 
the  countenance  of  each  horizon :  and  for 
this,  as  for  all  loving,  grew  stronger  and  more 
capacious  for  love.  She  grew  very  fond,  too, 
of  the  Lady.  Who  could  help  it  ?  She  was 


196  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

as  dainty  and  feminine  a  creature  as  ever 
made  her  nine  or  ten  miles  an  hour,  and  an 
swered  to  the  voice  with  a  sensitiveness  which 
made  the  bit  seem  a  rudeness  and  the  whip 
ruffianly.  Corona  would  have  undergone  an 
other  burglary  for  her,  if  she  could  have  af 
forded  it.  But  Matthew  Launcelot  had  never 
forgiven  the  Lady  of  Shalott.  It  was  one  of 
the  exciting  incidents  in  this  solitary  life  — 
•where  little  events  have  so  much  more  artistic 
proportion  to  the  prospective  than  larger  ones 
do  to  a  crowded  history  —  to  try  and  teach 
Matthew  Launcelot  to  go  to  ride.  This  he 
would  do  only  under  what  is  delicately  known 
in  asylums  as  "  restraint,"  howling  to  high 
heaven  all  the  time.  One  day  his  pro- 
reached  a  climax  that  put  an  end  to  Corona's 
educational  efforts  in  that  direction.  As  she 
drove,  holding  the  dog  with  a  firm  arm,  and 
the  reins,  watchful,  with  the  fine  senses  of  an 
experienced  driver,  in  one  hand  —  Matthew 
Launcelot  yelping  as  if  he  were  having  his 
teeth  extracted,  and  the  Lady  of  Shalott,  with 
her  head  down,  flying  at  a  pretty  pace  up  the 


WHAT  IS   CALLED  FRIENDSHIP.       197 

crowded  street  of  the  little  town  —  the  dog, 
with  one  mighty  effort,  released  himself, 
leaped  over  the  dasher,  and  landed,  shriek 
ing  murderously,  directly  upon  the  horse's 
back.  There  was  one  black  instant,  one  swift 
struggle  between  horse  and  driver,  a  gath 
ering  of  people,  and  rushing  blindly  to  save 
life ;  but  before  hand  could  touch  bridle,  the 
Lady  had  reared,  stopped,  shivered  a  little, 
planted  her  feet,  looked  over  her  shoulder, 
regarded  the  terrier  with  a  kind  of  scorn,  and 
proudly  stood  perfectly  still  till  he  jumped 
off.  She  disdained  to  run  for  him. 

After  this,  reconciliation  between  Matthew 
and  the  Lady  was  considered  as  one  of  the 
abandoned  hopes  of  life  ;  and  the  only  antag 
onism  in  Corona's  harmonious  family  circle 
remained  unadjusted. 

It  was  lovely  in  Paradise  ;  it  was  lonely  in 
Paradise.  In  the  cool  mornings  of  the  blue- 
and  -  gold  weather  Corona  held  to  her  fireside 
with  Puelvir  and  the  dog.  In  the  yellow 
noons  —  and  nothing  could  be  better  than  the 
September  noons  in  Fairharbor  —  she  basked 


198  BURGLARS   IN  PARADISE. 

upon  the  rocks  and  the  brown,  dry  grass 
which  crackled  beneath  her  as  she  stirred  lazi 
ly  below  the  staggering  sun  umbrella  to  turn 
the  page  that  flapped  against  the  rising  wind. 

Nothing  could  be  better  than  the  September 
noons  unless  it  were  the  September  moons. 
Then  there  seemed  to  arise  upon  the  world 
another  Hood,  as  of  the  waters  that  were  above 
the  waters. 

In  the  glamour  the  ocean  lifted  itself  to 
meet  that  other  sea.  Silent  sails  glided  across 
the  Harbor,  like  thoughts  too  timid  to  be 
spoken.  As  one  looked  at  them  from  the 
shore,  and  watched  them  melt  into  the  lon^ 
shadow  of  the  opposite  coast,  they  seenu-d 
like  something  precious  and  wasted.  As  one 
looked  from  them  into  the  water,  the  depths 
seemed  to  be  sucking  down  pearls,  tossed  by 
the  prodigal  moon,  one  guessed  not  why; 
and  lost,  one  knew  not  where. 

It  was  on  a  night  of  this  sort  that  the  in 
cident  which  I  have  now  to  relate,  for  historv's 

•I 

sacred  sake,   took  place  at   the   Old   Maid's 
Paradise.     It  was  a  warm  night;  one  of  tlu- 


WHAT  IS   CALLED  FRIENDSHIP.       199 

warmest  that  September  hoards  for  her  lovers, 
and  lavishes  in  outbursts  of  tenderness  that 
the  soul  remembers. 

Corona  was  in  the  hammock  on  the  piazza, 
swinging  idly  there  alone  ;  a  scarlet  shawl 
hung  over  her  dress  of  thick  white  flannel,  and 
was  regarded  with  disfavor  by  Matthew  Laun- 
celot ;  for  the  fringe  tickled  his  ears.  Now 
and  then  Corona  patted  the  dog  absently,  with 
that  manner  which  seems  to  say,  You  are 
better  than  nobody  !  and  which  a  sensitive 
dog  will  resent  as  well  as  a  sensitive  man. 
Puelvir  had  gone  to  a  prayer-meeting,  on  the 
ground  that  she  felt  as  if  she  should  like  to 
go  and  set  somewhere  and  sing  alto.  The 
empty  house  was  quite  dark;  and  Corona's 
figure  in  the  white  foreground  seemed  to  ab 
sorb  a  disproportionate  amount  of  light.  She 
lay  so  still  that  she  looked  as  if  she  were 
carved  there  —  a  statue  of  Solitude,  content 
and  sweet. 

When  footsteps  hit  the  crisp  grass  and 
touched  the  lower  step,  she  stirred,  but  did 
not  start. 


200  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

When  a  face  —  unseen  for  God  knew  how 
long  !  —  flashed  full  before  her  in  the  great 
breadth  and  extent  of  light,  she  did  not  cry 
out  nor  spring.  To  a  depth  below  all  that 
—  to  such  a  depth  as  astonishment  might 
strike  in  the  world  that  comes  after  this  — 
she  was  let  down,  down,  down  ;  and  then  JUT 
soul  stood  still. 

"  You!"  she  said.  "You?"  And  that 
was  all. 

"  You  look  just  as  you  used  to  look,"  he 
said  immediately,  in  his  old  candid,  blunt 
fashion.  "  You  have  not  changed." 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  of  nothing.  I  wished  to  see 
you  —  it  is  a  good  many  years.  May  I  come 
up  there?  Don't  move." 

"  It  is  —  a  good  many  —  years." 

"  Don't  get  out  of  the  hammock.  I  like 
to  see  you  there.  You  have  not  altered.  I 
thought  you  would  have  aged.  I  have." 

"  Yes  ;  I  see.     You  look  ill." 

"  I  am  not  ill,  but  I  am  worn  out.  I  have 
had  care  and  trouble.  My  daughter  died  in 
July." 


WHAT  IS   CALLED  FRIENDSHIP.      201 

"  Oh  !  I  did  not  know.  It  must  have  f ol- 
lowed"- 

"  Yes ;  she  wore  herself  into  this,  taking 
so  much  care  and  all  that  nursing.  I  could 
not  prevent  it.  Her  mother's  sickness  was  a 
painful  one.  It  cost  two  lives." 

Corona,  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  held 
out  her  hand  quite  in  silence  ;  words  could 
not  have  carried  what  it  seemed  idle  to  call 
sympathy,  and  yet  what  she  could  call  noth 
ing  else.  He  took  her  hand  with  evident 
gratitude  ;  that  trifling  sign  seemed  to  receive 
him  ;  he  drew  a  chair  beside  her  hammock 
and  sat  there,  unbidden,  looking  down. 

"  I  am  coming  to  Fairharbor  to  stay  for  a 
few  weeks  at  the  hotel  —  if  I  may,"  he  be 
gan  again. 

"  Fairharbor  does  not  belong  to  ine." 

"  I  thought  it  did.  But  I  will  not  stay  if 
it  be  objectionable  to  you.  I  don't  wish  to 
intrude  on  you.  I  never  did.  You  know 
that." 

"  How  could  it  matter  to  me  ?  "  said  the 
woman,  quietly.  She  glanced  at  her  empty 


202  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

house,  at  the  lonely  shore  ;  she  did  not  look 
at  her  old  friend. 

"  That  is  a  characteristic  answer.  I  sup 
pose  it  may  be  —  this  time  —  an  honest  one. 
I  am  honest,  too.  I  came  down  here  worn 
out,  as  I  tell  you.  I  wanted  rest,  and  tin- 
ocean.  When  I  got  here  I  found  you  were 
here.  So  I  came  to  see  you.  This  is  the 
truth." 

"Is  it?" 

"  The  holy  and  the  whole.  Do  you  mind 
having  me  for  a  neighbor  for  a  while  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  do,  or  not.  It 
had  not  entered  into  my  plans  for  the  season. 
.  .  .  I  'm  sorry  for  you,  though  !  You  are 
in  affliction.  You  show  it." 

"  You  are  just  the  same  as  ever ! "  he  broke 
out  in  a  ringing  voice.  "  You  have  n't 
changed  either  for  worse  or  for  better.  You 
h;ivt'  kept  all  those  ways  you  had  "  — 

He  laughed  a  little  ;  in  the  nervous,  half- 
boyish  manner  of  a  lonely  man  who  has  been 
traveling  some  time,  and  is  glad  to  have  some 
body  to  laugh  with,  or  even  to  laugh  at. 


WHAT  IS   CALLED  FRIENDSHIP.      203 

This  laugh  seemed  to  surprise  Corona.  At 
first  she  frowned  at  it ;  then,  before  she  knew 
what  she  was  doing,  she  had  shared  it.  The 
laugh  cleared  the  atmosphere  somehow ;  laugh 
ter,  like  tears,  can  be  a  powerful  conductor  ; 
and  Corona,  rising  to  lift  herself  upon  one 
arm  in  the  hammock,  looked  straight  into 
his  face. 

"  Will  you  tell  me  what  it  is  you  want  ?  " 

"  A  neighbor  —  a  comrade  ;  gentleness  ; 
and  to  be  understood,"  he  said,  eagerly ;  not 
in  the  paltry  tone  of  a  man  who  would  pro 
tect  himself,  but  in  that  of  one  who  fears  lest 
he  should  overstep,  "  perhaps  to  sit  on  your 
piazza  now  and  then.  I  shan't  bother  you. 
There  might  even  be  something  I  could  do  — 
some  service.  Is  n't  there  some  tinkering 
about  your  house  —  some  odds  and  ends  that 
a  man  —  But  I  suppose  you  have  learned  to 
do  all  these  things  for  yourself." 

"  I  have  learned  to  do  a  good  deal  for 
myself." 

"  You  always  did.  You  began  so.  But  I 
would  n't  be  in  your  way,  you  know." 


204  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Corona,  slipping  to  her 
feet,  and  lifting  her  serious  eyes  again  to 
his,  as  the  two  stood  so  near  and  so  sepa 
rate,  in  the  grave  approach  of  their  middle 
life  —  I  suppose  you  refer  to  what  is  called 
friendship." 


xn. 

RECEIPTED    BILLS. 

"  SOMETHING  of  that  kind,  I  suppose,"  he 
said. 

"  At  our  age,"  he  added,  "  people  ought  to 
be  able  to  get  on." 

"  I  am  sorry  for  you,"  she  repeated.  "  You 
are  a  bereaved  man.  It  is  my  nature  to  be 
very  sorry.  But  I  had  not  thought  of  mak 
ing  —  new  friends." 

"  A  new  friend  !  Pretty  old  one,  Corona. 
Have  you  forgotten  ?  " 

The  woman  gave  him  an  inscrutable  look. 

"  In  middle  life,"  she  said,  "  memory  is 
always  a  selection." 

"  I  know  we  did  n't  get  on  then,"  he 
urged,  "  but  "  — 

"  Whose  fault  was  that  ?  "  she  flashed. 

"  Was  it  mine  ?  "  he  cried. 


206  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

"  Was  it  mine  ?  "  she  demanded. 

They  separated,  walked  the  length  of  the 
piazza,  and  returned,  and  stopped  beside  each 
other  ;  both  showed  agitation ;  but  the  woman 
not  a  symptom  of  tenderness.  It  was  he  who 
renewed  the  duel. 

"  I  only  asked  the  place  of  a  neighbor 
and  a  friend ;  old  or  new,  as  you  choose ; 
the  sense  of  not  troubling  —  any  one  ;  the 
knowing  that  I  was  welcome ;  and  not  to  be 
always  running  against  the  thorns  in  your 
fragrance." 

"  You    always    talked   about   my  thorns  ! 

V  J 

You  told  me  I  was  like  that  Indian  tree  whose 
flowers  were  so  —  so  beautiful;  but  a  man 
tore  his  heart  out  before  he  could  gather 
them.  That  was  one  of  your  pointed  speeches. 
You  made  several." 

"  I  thought  it  was  you  who  said  those 
things.  You  have  n't  lost  the  faculty,  I  see. 
.  .  .  How  you  look  in  that  white  stuff  in  the 
white  light ;  and  how  red  that  shawl  is  !  I 
don't  see  that  you  have  grown  older  in  the 
face  by  one  day  or  night,  since  we  used  to 
battle  so." 


RECEIPTED  BILLS.  207 

"  We  always  quarreled.  We  always  shall. 
Don't  let  us  try  anything  of  any  kind  any 
more.  Let  the  old  gunpowder  —  and  the 
old  wounds  —  go  where  all  old  emotions  go. 
I  have  lived  without  your  friendship,  sir,  a 
good  many  years  !  " 

"  I  have  learned  to  do  without  it,"  she 
added. 

"  Are  you  sure  you  could  n't  learn  to  do 
with  it  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  We  are  not  the  same.  We  are  different 
people.  Our  lives  lie  between  us.  You  have 
become  a  widower  ;  and  I,  an  old  maid." 

She  said  these  words  as  if  she  laid  down  a 
finality  in  the  classification  of  species ;  a  set 
of  terms  beyond  which  evolution  ceased.  He 
smiled  ;  but  she  did  not. 

"  It  was  you  who  did  it  1 "  he  said,  below 
his  breath. 

She  made  him  no  reply. 

"  You  could  do  it,  too  !  " 

"  And  you  could  go  out  West  and  marry ! " 

"  I  am  a  man,"  he  said. 


208  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

"  And  I  a  woman." 

"  You  told  me  I  was  a  friend  with  one  let 
ter  left  out.  It  was  the  second  letter  too.  Do 
you  remember  that  ?  " 

"  And  you  told  me  there  was  an  antago- 
nisrn  between  us.  You  said  I  kept  it  up." 

"  And  you  told  rue  you  'd  rather  I  had 
been  drowned  yachting  that  summer  than  to 
have  lived  to  say  something  or  other  I  said  to 
you  one  morning." 

"  I  remember  that.     I  meant  it,  too." 

"  I  don't  doubt  you  did.  You  meant  them 
all.  You  were  the  loveliest  woman  I  ever 
knew  —  and  the  crudest !  " 

"  I  was  young,  then,"  said  Corona,  in  a 
lower  voice. 

"  We  are  both  of  us  older,"  he  said,  more 
gently. 

"Puelvir  is  coming  home,"  said  Corona, 
after  a  pause.  "  She  will  be  shocked  to  find 
me  talking  with  a  gentleman  so  late.  There 
is  not  a  soul  in  the  house,  you  know.  She  will 
think  she  ought  to  bring  her  knitting-work 
and  sit  on  the  piazza  with  us." 


RECEIPTED  BILLS.  209 

"  Puelvir  ?  She  is  —  perhaps  —  your  cha- 
perone  ? " 

"Puelvir  is  my  cook.  We  live  together 
by  ourselves.  I  am  very  fond  of  her.  She 
makes  me  quite  happy." 

"  Ask  Puelvir  if  I  may  come  over  and  see 
you  to-morrow  ;  will  you  ?  " 

"  Just  as  a  neighbor  ?  " 

"  Just  as  a  neighbor." 

"  And  what  you  call  a  friend  ?  " 

"  Yes.     What  I  call  a  friend." 

"  Not  to  quarrel  or  be  terrible,  as  you  used 
to  be?" 

"  To  be  different,  as  I  have  learned  to  be, 
Corona.  But  whether  we  quarrel  —  that 's 
for  you  to  say.  It  always  was." 

"  There  you  go  again  !  We  shall  come 
to  the  bayonet's  point  in  five  minutes.  I  'm 
afraid  it 's  in  us.  I  'm  afraid  we  can't  help  it. 
And,  you  see,  I  've  learned  so  well,  so  very 
well,  how  to  live  without  you." 

"  But  you  '11  ask  Puelvir,  won't  you  ? 
There  'd  be  no  harm  in  asking  ;  would 
there  ?  " 


210  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

"  N-n-no,"  said  Corona,  slowly.  "  Perhaps 
not.  I  will  ask  Puelvir." 

It  was  a  matter  of  keen  surprise  to  Corona 
—  who,  as  may  be  remembered,  had  long 
since  ceased  to  expect  things  —  to  find  that  a 
neighbor  made  a  difference.  Absolutely  it 
did  make  a  difference  in  life.  To  stir  in  the 
morning,  turning  the  opening  eyes  upon  the 
rising  tide,  and  remember  that  something  was 
going  to  happen  to-day  —  this  was  a  strange 
matter.  To  lock  the  doors  at  night  —  how 
much  later  than  she  was  used  need  not  be 
specified  —  and  shut  herself  in  by  the  moon 
lit  windows,  and  watch  the  water  ebb,  as 
thought  was  ebbing  after  flood,  and  say,  "•  I 
have  had  a  pleasure  to-day,"  or,  "  I  shall  have 
another  to-morrow,"  —  this,  in  Paradise,  was 
a  novelty.  To  be  watched  as  she  moved 
about  on  little  errands,  to  be  understood  in 
trifling  things,  to  have  small  wishes  respected 
or  even  forestalled  ;  to  share  a  drive,  a  walk, 
•u  poem,  tea,  a  full  moon,  a  high  tide,  a  letter, 
or  an  anxiety  —  to  this  grave  and  quiet  com 
radeship  our  sunny-hearted  old  maid  adapted 


RECEIPTED  BILLS.  211 

herself  with  the  calm  content  of  one  who 
wished  for  nothing  more  than  this ;  and  who 
had  so  long  lived  on  infinitely  less  that  she 
could  readily  lay  it  all  down  again  when  the 
time  came,  and  fall  back  upon  her  appren 
ticeship  of  solitude,  as  people  whose  health 
fails  in  a  higher  avocation  fall  back  upon  a 
trade  learned  and  stored  away  in  the  brain 
cells  long  ago. 

Nothing  was  more  amazing  than  to  see  the 
stir  that  a  man  made  in  this  later  Paradise. 
Did  the  woman  in  that  other  make  more? 
It  was  a  discovery  to  Corona  that  a  man  could 
be  put  to  so  many  intelligible  uses.  It  seemed 
incredible  that  a  lock  could  be  tinkered,  a 
slat  mended,  a  blind  hung,  a  loose  nut  discov 
ered  in  an  axle  without  riding  si^  miles  and 
paying  two  dollars  to  achieve  these  high  do 
mestic  ends.  The  mysteries  of  shoeing  and 
shorts  assumed  now  a  clearness  amounting 
to  the  commonplace.  It  was  no  longer  found 
necessary  to  keep  the  oat-barrel  in  the  pantry 
because  the  horse  eat  it  up  nights  in  the  barn  ; 
methods  of  solving  this  problem  evolved  them- 


212  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

selves,  one  knew  not  how.  Even  that  deli 
cately  balanced  question,  the  precise  length 
at  which  you  could  teach  Zero  to  tie  a  halter 
so  that  the  Lady  could  lie  down  if  she  want 
ed  to,  and  yet  not  break  her  leg  if  she  did  n't 
want  to,  was  disposed  of  with  what  seemed 
to  be  superhuman  ease.  So  strange,  and 
never  the  less  strange,  it  grew,  to  have  a  man 
in  Paradise. 

To  Puelvir  the  novelty  presented  what  we 
are  accustomed  to  call  the  other  side  of  a 
question.  Puelvir  was  not  happy.  Between 
the  guest  and  the  serving-maid  existed  a  fixed 
lack  of  sympathy,  such  as  was  accepted  be 
tween  Matthew  Launcelot  and  the  Lady  of 
Shalott.  One  evening,  when  they  were  lock 
ing  the  house  at  the  abandoned  hour  of  half- 
past  ten,  Puelvir  said,  stiffly,  to  her  mis 
tress,  — 

"  I  turned  off  the  raspberry  man  for  ?/ow." 
"  Dear  me,  Puelvir  !    What  can  you  possibly 
mean  ?  " 

Corona  turned  her  laughing  face,  in  which 
the  passing  youth  had  been  captured  in  these 


RECEIPTED  BILLS.  213 

pleasant  days  —  it  was  amazing  how  young 
she  could  look !  —  Corona  turned  her  bright 
eyes  upon  the  sober,  faithful  creature  to 
whom  "  what  is  called  friendship  "  had  not 
happened. 

"  I  mean  what  I  say,"  said  Puelvir,  looking 
gray.  "  And  them  two  widderers  besides.  I 
never  thought  it  of  you,  Miss  Corona,  that 
you  'd  go  back  on  me!" 

Puelvir  wiped  two  strange,  big  tears  from 
her  gaunt  cheeks.  She  said  no  more.  She 
felt  that  she  had  exhausted  the  deepest  sub 
ject  of  her  life. 

"  Puelvir !  Come  here,  Puelvir !  Do  you 
think  —  did  you  suppose  —  have  you  imag 
ined  "  - 

"  My  folks  give  me  common  senses  when  I 
was  horned  to  'em.  There  hain't  no  lunatics 
in  our  fambly  ;  nor  half-witted  ones,  neither. 
We  ain't  eddicated,  but  we  ken  learn  our 
multiplication  table.  Some  of  us  got  so  far 
as  the  spellin'-book." 

"  But,  Puelvir,  upon  my  word  of  honor,  I 
have  not  once  thought  of  such  a  thing;  I  am 


214  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

not  —  it  is  too  late  for  that,  Puelvir.  I  have 
no  intentions  in  that  direction,  whatever.  I 
like  my  way  of  life  better  as  I  am.  Evrii 
if  I  did  n't,  the  man  does  n't  live  who  could 
part  me  from  you,  Puelvir.  You  've  stood  by 
me  —  you  've  made  my  lonely  home  a  comfort 
to  me.  You  might  have  known  I  would  ap 
preciate  it." 

"  I  never  done  it  to  be  appreciated,"  beamed 
Puelvir.  She  wiped  her  eyes  and  took  to  her 
dusting  vigorously.  Her  homely  face  shone. 

"  You  must  understand  the  case,  Puelvir. 
This  gentleman  is  nothing  but  an  old  friend. 
He  will  never  be  anything  else  to  me.  I  can't 
help  being  kind  to  him,  Puelvir  ;  for  he  is  in 
such  trouble  "  — 

"  Think  so  !  "  said  Puelvir.  "  Acts  like 
it!" 

"  And  he  is  such  a  very  old  friend  "  — 

"  Hm-m-m-m !  "  said  Puelvir,  solemnly. 
"  So  that 's  what  you  call  a  friend  is  it  ? 
You  'd  ought  to  know  your  own  business.  It 
ain't  my  place  to  free  my  mind  ;  I  know  it 
ain't.  I  don't  move  in  the  upper  classes,  nor 


RECEIPTED  BILLS.  215 

I  never  did.  But  among  my  kind  of  folks 
we  call  it  keepin'  company.  Lord  bless 
you,  Miss  Corona,  anyhow,"  added  Puelvir. 
"  Call  the  creetur  what  you  like.  'T  ain't  no 
odds  to  me  what  name  you  give  him,  so 
long  's  he  don't  part  us  and  amuses  you.  He 
might  as  well  make  himself  useful  some  ways. 
I  don't  doubt  it 's  the  first  time  in  his  life ; 
you  ken  tell  him  I  said  so,  if  you  want  to." 

He  did  make  himself  useful,  in  particular 
about  that  burglary.  With  such  masculine 
vigor  did  he  approve  of  Corona's  determina 
tion  not  to  pursue  the  search  for  her  prop 
erty  that  he  effectually  crushed  whatever  re 
capitulation  of  her  decision  Messrs.  Hide  & 
Seek  or  feminine  frailty  may  have  suggested. 

"  Stop  where  you  are,"  he  said.  •"'  "  Stop 
just  here.  It  is  like  spiritualism  or  faro. 
You  will  be  drawn  on  by  the  invisible  delusion 
of  the  game,  if  you  suffer  it.  You  have  done 
the  sensible  thing.  Now  stick  to  it.  Let  me 
see  your  bills  for  this  affair,  may  I  ?  Suppose 
we  go  over  it  together." 

Corona  had  her  lap  full  of  bills  ;  receipted 


216  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

bills ;  a  frowning  pile,  built  since  the  bur 
glary.  With  a  merry  laugh,  she  tossed  them 
over.  How  amusing  was  care,  with  some  one 
on  the  sofa  to  make  light  of  it ! 

He  took  the  bills,  ran  his  eye  over  them, 
took  out  his  note-book  and  stylograph,  and 
quickly  did  a  sum  in  addition ;  whose  items 
he  read  aloud  to  Corona  as  follows  : 

For  printing  circulars $27  55 

Postage 4  50 

Travel  of  police 18  72 

Detectives 225  37 } 

Travel  of  police 2  35 

Advertising 83  25 

Agent  to  New  York 50  00 

Omnibus  ticket  to  Judas  Johns    ....        25 

Telegraphing 5  10 

Travel  and  sundries 65  27 


Total       $482 

"  It  is  a  pity,"  said  Corona,  after  a  pause. 
"Can't  we  make  it  up  to. $500  any  way  in 
the  world?" 

"I'm  afraid  not.  I've  tried.  It  is  a 
pity." 


RECEIPTED  BILLS.  217 

"  I  see  but  one  course  open  to  me,"  said 
Corona,  brightening.  "  I  must  give  a  party. 
I  must  give  a  party  to  Mr.  Pushett  and  those 
gentlemanly  persons  on  the  State  force,  and 
Mr.  Hide  and  Seek,  and  —  oh  !  Mr.  Judas 
Johns,  and  the  officers  of  the  Fee-Fi-Fum 
and  I.  0.  U.  I  must  invite  all  my  fellow- 
creatures  who  have  so  nobly  contributed  to 
the  recovery  of  my  property.  That  would 
easily  bring  it  up  to  $500,  don't  you  think  ? 
We  might  call  it  '  The  Detective  Detected,' 
or  some  other  of  those  fashionable  titles.  It 
would  be  a  pleasant  domestic  scene." 

"  I  '11  churn  the  ice-cream  for  you.  May 
I  ?  You  don't  know  what  ice-cream  I  can 
make.  I  put  a  little  pepper  in  it." 

They  looked  at  each  other  merrily,  laugh 
ing  at  their  protoplasmic  wit,  as  contented 
people  laugh  at  little  things. 

"  On  the  whole,"  said  Corona,  "  there  is 
an  obstacle.  My  guests  would  all  have  to 
have  their  traveling  expenses  paid,  I  suppose. 
That  goes  without  saying.  At  the  last  mo 
ment  some  of  them  would  telephone  :  '  Send 


218  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

$75  more,  and  I  '11  come.'  I  'm  afraid  it 
would  mount  up.  And  over  $500  I  don't 
see  my  way  to  go.  I  think  we  must  aban 
don  the  party." 

She  gathered  up  all  her  bills,  and  filed 
them  away  in  silence.  He  sat  and  watched 
her. 

"  I  wish,"  he  said  at  last,  in  one  of  those 
tentative  tones  which  might  pass  for  jest  or 
earnest,  as  the  speaker  chose,  or  as  the  lu-aivr 
decreed  — "  there  is  one  other  bill  I  wish  I 
could  see  receipted  in  full.  I  suppose  you 
think  you  have  one  against  me  ?  I  wish  you 
did  n't.  But  I  'm  afraid  you  do." 

She  made  no  answer  to  him  just  at  that 
moment.  She  felt  choked.  How  should  he 
understand?  How  could  he?  No  man  who 
could  have  let  it  all  happen  as  it  had  could 
understand.  Deeper  than  ever  delusion 
sounded,  she  knew  this;  for  then,  for  now, 
and  for  all  time. 

Through  her  musings,  as  she  sat  there 
silent  still  —  for  what  had  she  to  say  ?  — 
there  ran  in  characters  fantastic  the  items  of 


RECEIPTED  BILLS.  219 

that  other  account,  kept  in  the  ledger  of  a 
woman's  heart,  by  the  stern  book-keeper, 
Time,  who  makes  no  false  entry,  and  accred 
its  or  discredits  to  the  fraction  of  the  bitter 
or  the  blessed  truth  :  — 


to Dr. 


For  putting  a  woman  where  she  could  not  speak  for 
herself. 

For  not  comprehending  what  she  did  n't  say 

For  believing  what  she  did. 

For  her  suffering  more  than  he  was  worth. 

For  her   not   minding  whether  he  was  worth  it,  or 
not. 

For  fifteen  years  of  separation. 

For  her  living  alone  till  she  had  rather  live  alone. 

For  sundries  which  cannot  be  recorded,  and  should 
n't,  if  they  could. 

Received  payment  in  full,  . 

"No,  no!"  cried  the  woman.  "No!  It 
can  never  be  done." 

"  I  begin  to  see  it  all  a  little  differently," 
he  urged,  gently.  "  I  don't  say  that  I  did  n't 
make  mistakes.  I  should  like  —  In  your 
book-keeping,  Corona,  are  not  old  debts  out 
lawed,  sometimes  ?  " 


220  BURGLARS  IN  PARADISE. 

She  smiled,  and  shook  her  head  ;  and  then 
she  shook  her  head,  and  smiled  again.  They 
would  be  good  friends,  she  said ;  that  AY  as 
much  to  be  ;  but  for  that  other  record,  turn 
the  page,  and  speak  of  it  no  more. 

He  spoke  of  it  no  more  ;  at  least,  not  then. 
He  was  grateful  to  be  her  neighbor,  her  com 
rade,  and  to  serve  her  as  he  could.  By  that 
ancient  ladder,  the  golden  ladder  on  AY  Inch 
the  angels  of  trust  and  sympathy  ascend  to 
human  hearts  —  by  the  old,  old  ladder  of 
Friendship,  had  the  most  dangerous  house 
breaker  of  all  climbed  up  to  Paradise  ? 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  AT  LOS  ANGELES 

THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
This  booJjLts  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


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A  A   000192000  8 


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